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THE 



LIFE AND LABOURS 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 




AUQiUpTING 



iKt U nB:i'12!ersjli:.L. 



THE 



LIFE AND LABOURS OF 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 



A HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



BY PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D. 



Fecisti nos ad Te, et inquietum est cor nostrum, donee requiescat in Te. 

Aug. Confess, i. 1. 



T - A, 



TI^ 



LONDON: 
SAMUEL BAGSTER AND SONS, 

PATERNOSTER ROW. 



ar.Dccc.LiY. 



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PREFACE 



St. Augustine is acknowledged on all hands to 
be one of the greatest and best men that adorn 
the history of the Christian Church. The piety 
of his tender years, the theoretical and prac- 
tical aberrations of his youth and early man- 
hood, his wanderings through the wilderness of 
heresy and scepticism, his constant burning thirst 
after God, the only true and living God, his 
painful mental and moral conflicts in the search 
of truth and peace, his striking and thorough 
conversion, his commanding position as a bishop 
and divine, his invaluable services to the Church 
of his age, the number, character, and influence 
of his writings upon the later fathers, the school- 
men and mystics of the Middle Ages, the Re- 
>rmers of the sixteenth, and the Jansenists of 
tne seventeenth century, and the veneration in 



VI PEEFACE. 

which he is still held to this day both by the 
Roman Catholic and the Protestant Church : — 
all this clothes his life with a peculiar interest, 
not only to the professional theologian, but also 
to every intelligent Christian. 

A faithful, clear, and popular account of such 
a man is still a desideratum in our literature. 
The biography, which we here present to the 
public, is conscientiously derived from the ori- 
ginal sources, especially Augustine's own " Con- 
fessions," one of the most edifying books ever 
written ; but to make it accessible to the general 
reader, we have omitted the critical apparatus, 
and all those minute expositions of his philoso- 
phical and theological system, which are only 
interesting to the learned divine. 

May the Lord bless this humble sketch of one 
of His most devoted and useful servants, to the 
benefit of His people ! 

Ph. S. 

London, March, 1854. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 
augustine's youth . 

CHAPTER II. 

AUGUSTINE AMONG THE MANICHAEANS 



. 1 



10 



CHAPTER III. 

AUGUSTINE IN ROME. — HIS SCEPTICISM . . .19 

CHAPTER IV. 

AUGUSTINE IN MILAN. AMBROSE AND THE CHURCH. — MO- 
NIC A'S ARRIVAL 24 

CHAPTER V. 

Augustine's struggles. — study or plato akd the epis- 
tles OP ST. PAUL . . . .37 

CHAPTER VI. 
Augustine's conversion .... .46 

CHAPTER VII. 

Augustine's sojourn in the country. — his activity as 

an author. his retuun to milan, and baptism . 55 



V1U CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER VIII. 

HOMEWARD JOURNEY TO AFRICA. MONICA'S DEATH . 63 

CHAPTER IX. 

SHORT STAY IN ROME. — WRITINGS AGAINST THE MANICHAEANS. 

RESIDENCE AT TAGESTUM. — APPOINTMENT AS PRIEST 

AND BISHOP. . . . . . .71 

CHAPTER X. 

Augustine's domestic life and administration of his 

episcopal office ..... 74 

CHAPTER XL 

THE LAST YEARS OF AUGUSTINE'S LIFE. HIS DEATH . 79 

CHAPTER XII. 

augustine's writings ..... 82 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE SIGNIFICANCE AND INFLUENCE OF AUGUSTINE ON HIS 

OWN AND SUCCEEDING GENERATIONS . . .89 



THE LIFE AND LABOUKS 



OP 



ST. AUGUSTINE 



Fecisti nos ad Te, et inquietum est cor nostrum, donee requiescat in Te. 

Aug. Confess, i. 1. 



CHAPTEE I. 
Augustine's youth. 

Aurelius Augustinus, the most original, spirited, 
profound, and influential of the Church Fathers, was born 
on the 13th of November, 353, at Tagestum, in N^midia. 
His father was a member of the city council, and an irri- 
table, sensual man, but at the same time kindly disposed. 
Although he remained a heathen until shortly before his 
death, he did not, as it appears, lay any obstruction in 
the Christian course of his wife. Monica, the mother of 
Augustine, is counted among the most noble and pious 
women, who adorn the temple of Church-history. She 
had rich gifts of mind and heart, which were developed 



2 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OP 

by an excellent Christian education, and dedicated to the 
Saviour. To the violent temperament of her husband 
she opposed an angelic meekness, and, when the outburst 
was over, reproached him so tenderly, that he was always 
shamed, which, had it been done sooner, would only have 
fed the unhallowed fire. His conjugal infidelity she bore 
with patience and forgiving love. Her highest aim was 
to win him over to the faith, not so much by words, as 
by a truly humble and godly conversation, and the most 
conscientious discharge of her household duties. In this 
she was so successful, that, a year before his death, 
he enrolled himself among the catechumens, and was 
baptized. To her it was not a necessity only, but the 
greatest pleasure also, to read the Holy Scriptures, and 
to attend church regularly every morning and evening, 
" not," as Augustine says, "to listen to vain fables, but 
to the Lord, in the preaching of his servants, and to offer 
up to Him her prayers." She esteemed it a precious 
privilege to lay on the altar each day a gift of love, to 
bestow alms on the poor, and to extend the rites of hospi- 
tality to strangers, especially to brethren in the faith. 
She brought up her children in the nurture and admoni- 
tion of the Lord. For thirty years she prayed for the 
conversion of her distinguished son, until at last, a short 
time before her death, after manifold cares and burning 
tears, in the midst of which she never either murmured 
against God or lost hope, she found her prayers answered 
beyond her expectations. She has become a noble ex- 
ample for mothers ; and, as Augustine boasts of her, bare 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 3 

her children spiritually with greater pains than she 
brought them forth naturally into the world.* 

From such parents sprang our church-father. Strong 
sensual passions he inherited from his father ; but from 
his mother those excellent gifts of mind and heart, which, 
though long perverted, were at last reclaimed by the 
regenerating grace of God, and converted into an incalcu- 
lable blessing to the Church of all ages. He had also a 
brother, by the name of Navigius, and a widowed sister, 
who presided over a society of pious women till the day 
of her death. 

Augustine says, that with his very mother's milk his 
heart sucked in the name of the Saviour, which became 
so firmly lodged there, that nothing that did not savour 
of that name, however learned and attractive it might 
otherwise be, could ever fully charm him. He early 
lisped out prayers to God, whose all-embracing love re- 
vealed itself to his childish spirit. It is true, indeed, that 
these germs of piety were overgrown by the weeds of 
youthful vice and impure lusts, but were never wholly 
smothered. Even in the midst of his farthest theoretical 
and practical wanderings, he still heard the low, sad echo 
of his youthful religious impressions, was attended by the 
guardian genius of his praying mother, and felt in the 



* Confess. 1. v. c. 9. Non enim satis eloquor, quid erga me 
habebat animi, et quanto majore sollicitudine me parturiebat spiritu, 
quam came perpererat. Likewise 1. ix. c. 8 : quae me parturivit, 
et came, ut in hanc temporalem, et corde, ut in aeternam lucem 
nascerer. 



4 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

depths of his noble spirit the pulse-beat of that strong 
desire after God, to which, in the opening of his " Con- 
fessions," he gives utterance in the incomparable words : 
" Thou, God, hast created us for Thyself, and our hearts 
are restless, until they rest in Thee."* 

He was sent to school at an early age, with the hope, 
— on the part of his father, that he might become dis- 
tinguished in the world, — on that of his mother, " because 
she thought the common scientific studies might not only 
prove innocent, but also in some degree useful in leading 
him afterwards to God." Elementary instruction and 
mathematics were, however, too dry for the boy, and he 
was, in consequence, severely punished by his teachers. 
Play was his chief delight. In order to shine as the first 
among his companions, he even cheated them ; and, for 
the purpose of providing himself with play-things, or of 
gratifying his appetites, he went so far as to steal from 
the store-room and the table of his parents. At public 
shows he passionately crowded himself into the front 
ranks of the spectators. And yet for all this he had to 
endure the reproaches of conscience. On one occasion, 
when, seized by a violent cramp in the stomach, he be- 
lieved his last hour had come, he earnestly begged to be 
baptized ; but, after his mother had made the necessary 
preparations, he grew better, and the baptism, according 
to the notions of the age, was postponed, lest this precious 



* Confess. 1. i. c. 1. Fecisti nos ad Te, et inquietum est cor 
nostrum, donee requiescat in Te. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 5 

means for the washing away of past sins might be ren- 
dered vain by the contraction of new guilt, in which case 
no other remedy was to be found. At a later period he 
thought it would have been far better for him, had he 
been early received by baptism into the communion of 
the Church, and thus placed under her protecting care. 

His dislike for learning ceased, when Augustine passed 
over from rudimentary studies into the grammar-school. 
The poet Yirgil, especially, charmed his fancy, and filled 
him with fresh enthusiasm. With the deepest interest he 
followed jEneas in his wanderings, and shed tears over 
the death of Dido, who slew herself for love, whilst at 
the same time, as he tells us, he ought to have mourned 
over his own death in estrangement from God.* The 
wooden horse full of armed warriors, the burning of Troy, 
and the shade of Creusa were continually before his soul. 
The Grecian classics were not so much to his taste, be- 
cause his defective knowledge of the language, which he 
never had the patience to acquire, prevented the enjoy- 
ment of their contents. By his gift of lively representa- 
tion and brilliant oratorical talent, he made a figure in the 
school, and awakened in the hearts of his parents the 
fondest hopes. His father destined him to the then 
highly respectable and influential office of a rhetorician, 



* Conf. i. 13. Quid enim miserius misero non miserante se ip- 
sum, et flente Didonis mortem, quae fiebat amando iEneam, non 
flente autem mortem suam, quae fiebat non amando Te, Deus, lumen 
cordis mei, et panis oris intus animae meae, et virtus maritans men- 
tem meam, et sinum cogitationis meae ? 



6 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

or public teacher of oratory. For further improvement 
lie sent him to the larger neighbouring city of Madaura, 
where Heathenism still held almost exclusive sway. His 
residence there was probably injurious to him in a moral 
point of view. 

In the sixteenth year of his age he returned home, in 
order to prepare himself, in as cheap a manner as possible, 
for the university of the metropolis of Northern Africa. 
But, instead of growing better, he entered upon the path 
of folly, and plunged into the excesses of sensuality. His 
mother earnestly exhorted him to lead a chaste life ; but 
he was ashamed to heed the exhortation of a woman. 
This false shame drove him even to pretend frequently to 
crimes which he had never committed, so as not to seem 
to fall behind his comrades. He himself confesses, " I 
was not able to distinguish the brighter purity of love 
from the darkness of lust. Both were mingled together 
in confusion : youth in its weakness, hurried to the abyss 
of desire, was swallowed up in the pool of vice." Yet, 
amid these wild impulses it was not well with him. That 
longing after God, so deeply rooted in his soul, asserted 
its power again and again. He became more and more 
discontented with himself, and after every indulgence felt 
an inward pang. The guiding hand of the Lord mixed 
in the cup of his enjoyment "the wholesome bitterness, 
that leads us back from destructive pleasure, by which we 
are estranged from God." 

In his seventeenth year, the same in which his father 
died, he entered the High School of Carthage, supported 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 7 

by his mother and the richest citizen of Tagestum, Ro- 
manianus, who was a distant relative. Certainly Monica 
did not see him depart for the great and voluptuous 
city without fear and trembling ; but she was not willing 
now to interrupt the career of her son, and she knew Him 
who is stronger than all temptation, and listens to the 
prayer of the righteous. In Carthage, Augustine studied 
oratory and other sciences, astrology even, and raised him- 
self to the first rank by his talent. This increased his 
ambition and fed his pride. With his morals it fared 
badly. He consorted with a class of students who sought 
their honour in deriding good morals, and called them- 
selves " Destroyers." Although their rough and vulgar 
doings were peculiarly disagreeable to a nature so noble 
as his, yet their society must have exerted over him a per- 
nicious influence. He frequently visited also the tragic 
theatre, "because it was always," says he, "filled with 
pictures of my misery, and tinder for my desires." In 
his eighteenth year he took up with a woman, with whom 
he lived thirteen years without marriage, and was faithful 
to her. She bore him a son, Adeodatus, whose promising 
gifts gave his father much joy, but he died at an early 
age. 

Meanwhile, beneath this rushing stream of external 
activity, the soul of Augustine sighed after redemption. 
His ardent thirst for something ideal and enduring, first 
of all showed itself in the study of the " Hortensius" of 
Cicero, which came up regularly in the course of his 
education. This lost volume contained an encouragement 



8 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

to true philosophy, and gave the direction, in its study, 
to aim at truth only, and, above all, to hail her footsteps 
with enthusiasm, and without regard to the interests of 
party. This roused the young man to an earnest struggle 
after truth. " This book," says he, " transformed my in- 
clinations, and turned my prayers to Thee, God, and 
changed my wishes and my desires. Every vain hope 
was extinguished, and I longed, with an incredible fervour 
of spirit, after the immortality of wisdom ; I began to 
raise myself, that I might return to Thee. I studied this 
book again and again, not for the refinement of my lan- 
guage, nor for aid in the art of speaking, but in order 
that I might be persuaded by its doctrine. how I 
burned, my God, how I burned, to fly back from the 
things of earth to Thee ! and I knew not what Thou 
hadst designed with me : for with Thee is wisdom ; and 
these writings excited me toward love, toward wisdom, 
toward philosophy. And this particularly delighted me, 
that I was not asked therein to love, to seek, to attain, 
and to hold in firm embrace, this or that school, but Wis- 
dom alone, as she might reveal herself. I was charmed 
and inflamed." But this volume contained one blemish, 
— the name of Christ was not there ; — such a secret power 
did this name, imprinted on his tender, youthful soul, 
exert over him, even during his wanderings. 

In this thirst after truth, he laid hold of the records of 
revelation, that holy Book to which his mother clung 
with such reverent devotion. But there was yet a great 
gulf fixed between him and the Bible. In order to be 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 9 

understood, it requires a humble, childlike disposition. 
To the proud in spirit it is a book with seven seals. The 
natural man perceives not the things that belong to the 
Spirit of God; they are foolishness unto him, because 
they are spiritually discerned. Augustine was not yet 
acquainted with the depth of his corruption, which the 
Holy Scriptures disclosed to him on every page. " They 
are they," he so beautifully says, " which thrive among 
the childlike ; I refused to become a child, and thought 
myself great in my own presumption." He desired not 
Truth in her simple beauty, but arrayed in a specious 
garb of rhetoric, to natter his vanity ; he desired her not 
as a chaste virgin, but as a wanton harlot. Hence he 
now turned to the sect of the Manichaeans, who had the 
word "truth" always on their lips, but by this very 
means held their disciples captive in the circle of mere 
nature. 



10 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 



CHAPTER II. 

AUGUSTINE AMONG THE MANICHAEANS. 






The Manichaeans, so called from their founder, the Per- 
sian Mani, or Manichaeus (277 A.D.), were a sect allied 
to the Gnostics. They blended together Heathenism and 
Christianity in a fantastic system, which they set up in 
rude opposition to Judaism and the Catholic Church. 
The ground-work of their doctrine is the Old Persian 
religion of Zoroaster, into which a few Christian elements 
are introduced in a distorted form. They were of course 
dualists : they taught, as Zoroaster, an original antagon- 
ism between God and matter, between the kingdom of 
light and the kingdom of darkness, between good and 
evil. Man stands in the middle between both these king- 
doms ; he has a spark of light in him, which longs after 
redemption, but at the same time is possessed of an origi- 
nal and substantially evil body, and, corresponding to it, 
a corrupt soul, which is to be gradually annihilated. To 
a certain degree they acknowledged Christ as a Saviour, 
but confounded Him with the sun, for they were accus- 
tomed to drag down the spiritual ideas of the Gospel into 
the sphere of natural life, and to these subjected every 
other signification. In the entire economy of nature, 
which, along with the perfume of the flower, sends the 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 11 

miasmatic breath, and causes the gloomy night to succeed 
the clear day, they saw a conflict between these two king- 
doms, in every plant a crucified Christ, an imprisoned 
spirit of light, which worked itself up from the dark 
bosom of the earth, and strove toward the sun. The class 
of the perfect among them durst slay or wound no ani- 
mal, pluck no flower, break no stalk of grass, for fear of 
injuring the higher spirit dwelling in it. They regarded 
the whole Catholic Church as contaminated by Judaistic 
elements. Mani is the Paraclete promised by Christ, who 
is to restore again the true Church. They reproached the 
Catholic Christians for believing blindly, on mere autho- 
rity, and for not elevating themselves to the stand-point 
of knowledge. They, the Manichaeans, thought them- 
selves, on the contrary, in the possession of perfect know- 
ledge, of Truth in her pure, unveiled form. The words, 
"truth," " science," "reason," never out of their mouths, 
were esteemed as excellent baits for strangers. 

These lofty pretensions and promises to unravel all the 
riddles of existence, the longing after redemption charac- 
teristic of the system, its inward sympathy with the life 
of nature, the dazzling show of i£s subtle dialectics and 
polemics against the doctrines of the Church, and the 
ascetic severity of its course of life, explain the attractive 
power which it exerted over many of the more profound 
spirits, and the extensive propagation which it met with 
even in the West. We can readily imagine, how Augus- 
tine, taken up with his struggles after truth, but at the 
same time full of intellectual pride, as he then was, 



12 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

should be won over by its delusive charms. He enrolled 
himself in the class of the auditors, or catechumens. His 
mother mourned over this new aberration, but was con- 
soled by a dream, in which a shining youth told her that 
her son shall stand just where she shall stand. When she 
informed her son of it, he interpreted the dream as imply- 
ing the speedy conversion of his mother to his side. "No, 
no," answered she ; "it was not said to me : where he is, 
there shalt thou be also ; but, where thou art, there shall 
he be also." Augustine confesses that this prompt reply 
made a greater impression on him than the dream itself. 
She was likewise comforted by a bishop, who, at a former 
period, had been himself a Manichaean. She begged him 
to convince her son of his error ; but he thought disputa- 
tion would be of no avail : she should only continue to 
pray for him, and gradually, of his own accord, through 
study and experience, he would come to a clearer under- 
standing. "As sure as you live," he added, "it is not 
possible that a son of such tears should be lost." Monica 
treasured up these words as a prophetic voice from heaven. 
For nine years, up to the twenty-eighth of his life, 
Augustine remained in connection with these heretics, 
led astray and leading others astray. The discovery of 
seeming contradictions in the doctrines of the Church, 
their polemics against the Old Testament, their specula- 
tions concerning the origin of evil, which they traced 
back to a primordial principle co-existent with God Him- 
self, spoke to his understanding, whilst their symbolical 
interpretations of the varied aspects of nature addressed 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 13 

his lively imagination. And yet for all this, the deepest 
want of his reason, in its struggle after unity, and of 
his longing soul, remained unsatisfied. At the time of 
the high church-festivals particularly, when all Christians 
flocked to the services of the altar, in order to die with 
the Lord, on Good Friday, and rise again with Him, on 
Easter morning, he was seized with a strong desire after 
their communion. He took no step toward entering the 
higher class of the initiated, or elect, among the Mani- 
chaeans, but devoted himself more zealously to those 
studies which belonged to his calling as a rhetorician. 

After the completion of his course of study, he re- 
turned to Tagestum, in order to settle there as a teacher 
of rhetoric. He was master of every qualification for in- 
spiring his scholars with enthusiasm; and many of them, 
especially Alypius, adhered to him through life with the 
most heartfelt gratitude. 

About this time he lost a very dear friend, who, with 
an almost feminine susceptibility, had resigned himself to 
the commanding power of his creative intellect, and had 
even followed him into the mazes of Manichaeism. He 
was suddenly prostrated by a fever. Baptism was ad- 
ministered to him without his knowledge. Augustine, 
who was with him night and day, made a mock of it. 
But his friend, when he again became conscious, with- 
stood him with an independence that he had never J>efore 
exhibited. The empty shadow of a Christ, the sun, the 
moon, the air, and whatever else was pointed out by 
Manichaeism to the soul thirsting after salvation, could 



14 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

now yield Mm no comfort, but the simple, childlike faith 
of the Catholic Church alone. In this faith he departed, 
when the fever returned with renewed violence. The death 
of this friend filled Augustine with inexpressible anguish. 
He had lived so much in him, that his own life seemed 
to be buried with him. Neither the splendour of light, 
nor the peaceful innocence of the flower-world, nor the 
joys of the banquet, nor the pleasures of sense, had any 
interest for him now ; even his books for a long while 
lost their charms. " Everything I looked upon was 
death. My fatherland became a torment to me, my 
father's house a scene of the deepest suffering. Above 
all, my eyes sought after him ; but he was not given back 
to me again. I hated everything, because he was not 
there. I had become a great enigma to myself." He 
afterwards saw how wrong it was to place such unbounded 
dependence on the creature. " the folly," he laments, 
" of not knowing how to love men as men ! foolish 
man, to suffer what is human beyond due measure, as I 
then did!" " Blessed is he, Lord, who loves Thee," 
are his inimitable words, " and his friend in Thee, and 
his enemy for thy sake. He alone loses no dear ones, to 
whom all are dear in Him, who can never be lost to us. 
And who is He, but our God, the God who made heaven 
and earth, and fills them all ! No one loses Thee, but 
him who forsakes Thee." * And yet we see, in this un- 

* Conf. iv. 9. Beatus qui amat Te, et amicum in Te, et inimi- 
cum propter Te. Solus enim nullum carum amittit, cui omnes in 
illo cari sunt, qui non amittitur. Et quis est Iste, nisi Deus noster, 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 15 

controllable anguish, what a deep fountain of love was 
gushing in his bosom. Could this love only find its pro- 
per object, and be purified by the Spirit of God, what a 
rich ornament and source of blessing must it become to 
the Church ! At the same time, this severe suffering 
reveals the internal weakness of the Manichaean dogmas, 
and of mere human wisdom. Its consolations cannot 
reach into the dark hours of trouble ; its promises are 
convicted of falsehood at the brink of the grave. It is 
true, indeed, that this visitation to his soul passed by 
without waking him up from his sleep of sin. Still, the 
death-bed of his friend, which he could not banish from 
his memory, had certainly the effect of undermining his 
faith in the Manichaean system. 

In consequence of this loss, which imbittered his life 
in his native city, and impelled also by an ambitious 
desire for a distinguished career, Augustine went back to 
Carthage, and there opened a school of forensic eloquence. 
Amid new relationships, and in the society of new friends, 
his wounds were gradually healed, and he went forward 
in his accustomed path with success, though, at times, 
the recklessness of the students gave him great pain. He 
appeared also as an author, and published a large philo- 
sophical work on Fitness and Beauty (de apto et pulchro). 
For some time, yet, he adhered to Manichaeism, until at 
last, in his twenty-ninth year, a crisis arrived. By degrees 

Deus, qui fecit coelum et terrain, et implet ea, quid implendo ea fecit 
ea ! Te nemo amittit, nisi qui dimittit. Et qui dimittit, quo it aut 
quo fugit, nisi a Te placido ad Te iratum ? 



16 THE LIFE AND LABOUES OP 

many doubts had arisen in Ms mind concerning the sys- 
tem. His confidence in the boasted sanctity of the Mani- 
chaean priesthood, the class of the elect, was shaken by 
the not unfounded rumour of secret vices, which held 
sway among them, under the hypocritical mask of pecu- 
liar, ascetic virtues. By the thorough study of philo- 
sophy, he obtained an insight into the many contradic- 
tions and untenable points of Manichaean speculation. 
The notion of evil as a substance co-eternal with God 
could not satisfy his spirit in its struggle after unity. 
The Manichaeans were unable to solve his doubts, and, 
instead of attempting it, promised to introduce him to 
their famous bishop, Faustus of Mileve, a city in the 
north-western part of Numidia, who was then regarded as 
their oracle. Augustine himself was very desirous of be- 
coming acquainted with him. This honour was at last 
granted. They met in Carthage. He discovered in him 
a brilliant orator, and a subtle dialectician, but at the 
same time a man of moderate culture, and without any 
depth or earnestness of spirit. He compares him to a 
cup-bearer who with graceful politeness presents a costly 
goblet without anything in it. " With such things," 
says he, in allusion to his discourses, " my ears were 
already satiated. They did not appear better because 
beautifully spoken, nor true because eloquent, nor spirit- 
ually wise because the look was expressive, and the dis- 
course select. Thou, my God, hast taught me, in won- 
derful and hidden ways, that a thing should not seem 
true because portrayed with eloquence, nor false because 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 17 

the breath of the lips is not sounded according to the 
rules of art ; on the other hand, that a thing is not neces- 
sarily true because conveyed in rude, nor false because 
conveyed in brilliant, language ; but that wisdom and 
folly are like wholesome and noxious viands ; — both may 
be contained in tasteful or unadorned words, as they in 
rough or finely- wrought vessels." In the private con- 
versations which he held with Faustus, the latter could 
not answer questions of vital importance to the truth of 
the Manichaean system, and was obliged to resort to the 
Socratic confession of ignorance. But that did not agree 
well with the intellectual arrogance of this sect. Now, 
after their boasted champion had so sadly disappointed 
his expectations, Augustine resolved on breaking with 
the heresy, although he did not yet formally renounce his 
place among its adherents. 

Before we go on with our church-father, let us take a 
glance at the connection between his wanderings and his 
later activity in the Church. The marvellous wisdom of 
God reveals itself especially in this, that he knows how 
to bring good out of evil, and makes even the sins and 
errors of his servants contribute to their own sanctiflca- 
tion, and an increase of their usefulness. And yet by 
no means does this render wickedness excusable. To the 
question, — " Shall we continue in sin, that grace may 
abound?" the Apostle Paul answers with horror, " God 
forbid !" (Eom. vi. 1.) The wild, reckless life of Augus- 
tine prepared him to look, afterwards, in the light of 
grace, far down into the abyss of sin, into the thorough 



18 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OP 

corruption and ingratitude of trie human heart. The 
bare thought of it must have deeply humbled him ; but 
the humility that can say with Paul, " I am the chief of 
sinners," is one of the most beautiful pearls in the crown 
of the Christian character, whilst spiritual pride and self- 
righteousness gnaw like worms at the root of piety. 
There is scarcely a church-father, who, in regard to deep, 
unfeigned humility, bears so much resemblance, or stands 
so near to the great Apostle, as Augustine. He mani- 
fests, in all his writings, a noble renunciation of self in 
the presence of the Most Holy, and his spirit goes forth 
in thankfulness to the superabounding grace, which, in 
spite of his unworthiness, had drawn him up out of the 
depths of corruption, and overwhelmed him with mercy. 
By his own painful experience he was also fitted to de- 
velope the doctrine of sin with such rare penetration and 
subtlety, as to refute completely the superficial theories 
of Pelagius, and thus to render an invaluable service to 
theology and the Church. Further, his theoretical aber- 
ration into Manichaeism fitted him to overthrow this 
false and dangerous system, and to prove by a striking 
example how fruitless the search after truth must be, 
outside of the simple, humble faith of the Church. Thus 
also was St. Paul, by his learned, Pharisaic education, 
better qualified than any other apostle for contending 
successfully against the false exegesis and legal righteous- 
ness of his Judaistic opponents. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 19 



CHAPTER III. 

AUGUSTINE IN ROME. — HIS SCEPTICISM. 

After Augustine had lost faith in Manichaeism he 
found himself in the same situation as he was ten years 
before. There was' the same longing after truth, but 
linked now with a feeling of desolation, a bitter sense of 
deception, and a large measure of scepticism. He was no 
longer at ease in Carthage. He hankered after new as- 
sociations, new scenes, new fountains, out of which to 
drink the good so ardently desired. 

This disposition of mind, in connection with a dislike 
for the rudeness of the Carthaginian students and the 
exactions of friends, made him resolve on a journey to 
Rome, where he ventured to hope for a yet more brilliant 
and profitable career as a rhetorician. Thus he drew 
nigher to the place where his inward change was to be 
decided. - He endeavoured to conceal his resolution from 
his mother, who, in the meantime, was attracted to him. 
But she found out something about it, and wished either 
to prevent him from going, or to go with him. Augus- 
tine would listen to neither proposal, and resorted to a 
trick to carry out his plan. One evening, in the year 
383, he went down to the sea- shore, in order to take ship 
near the place, where two chapels had been dedicated to 



20 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

the memory of the great church- father and martyr, Cyp- 
rian. His mother suspected his design, and followed him. 
He pretended that he merely wished to visit a friend on 
board, and remain with him until his departure. As she 
was not satisfied with this explanation, and unwilling to 
turn back alone, he insisted on her spending at least that 
one night in the church of the martyr, and then he would 
come for her. Whilst she was there in tears, praying 
and wrestling with God to prevent the voyage, Augus- 
tine sailed for the coasts of Italy* and his deceived 
mother found herself the next morning alone on the 
shore of the sea. She had learned, however, the hea- 
venly art of forgiving, and believing, also, where she 
could not see. In quiet resignation she returned to the 
city, and continued to pray for the salvation of her son, 
waiting the time when the hand of Supreme Wisdom 
would solve the dark riddle. Though meaning well, she 
this time erred in her prayer, for the journey of Augus- 
tine was the means of his salvation. The denial of the 
prayer was, in fact, the answering of it. Instead of the 
husk, God granted rather the substance of her petition in 
the conversion of her son. "Therefore," says he, "there- 
fore hadst Thou, God, regard to the aim and essence 
of her desires, and didst not do what she then prayed for, 
that thou mightest do for me what she continually im- 
plored." 

After a prosperous voyage, Augustine found lodging, 
in the chief city of the world, with a Manichaean host, 
of the class of the auditors, and mingled also in the 






ST. AUGUSTINE. 21 

society of the elect. He was soon attacked, in the house 
of this heretic, by a disease, to bring on which, the 
agonies of his soul, dissatisfaction with his course of life, 
remorse for the deception practised on his excellent 
mother, and home-sickness, may have contributed. The 
fever rose so high, that signs of approaching dissolution 
had already appeared, and yet Providence had reserved 
him for a long and active life. " Thou, God, didst 
permit me to recover from that disease, and didst make 
the son of thy handmaid whole, first in body, that he 
might become one on whom Thou couldest bestow a 
better and more secure restoration." 

Again restored to health, he began to counsel his com- 
panions against Manichaeism, to which before he had so 
zealously laboured to win over adherents. And yet he 
could not lead them to the truth. His dislike to the 
Church had rather increased. The doctrine of the incar- 
nation of the Son of God had become particularly offen- 
sive to him, as it is to all Gnostics and Manichaeans. He 
despaired of finding truth in the Church ; yet scepticism 
could not satisfy him ; and so he was tossed wildly be- 
tween two waters that would not flow peacefully together. 
"The more earnestly and perseveringly I reflected on the 
activity, the acuteness, and the depth, of the human soul, 
the more I was led to believe that truth could not be a 
thing inaccessible to man, and came thus to the conclu- 
sion that the right path to its attainment had not hitherto 
been discovered, and that this path must be marked out 
by Divine authority. But now the question arose, what 



22 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

this Divine authority might be, since, among so many 
conflicting sects, each professed to teach in its name. A 
forest full of mazes stood again before my eyes in which 
I was to wander about, and to be compelled to tread, 
which rendered me fearful." 

In this unsettled state of mind he felt himself drawn 
toward the doctrines of the Newer Academy.* This 
system, whose representatives were Arcesilaus and Car- 
neades, denied, in most decided opposition to Stoicism, 
the possibility of an infallible knowledge of the object ; 
it could only arrive at a subjective probability, not truth. 
It was not possible for our church-father to rest content 
with a philosophy so sceptical. It only served to give 
him a deeper sense of his emptiness, and thus, in a nega- 
tive manner, to pave the way for something better. A 
change in his external circumstances soon occurred, which 
hastened the great crisis of his. life. 

After he had been in Kome not quite a year, the pre- 
fect, Symmachus, the eloquent advocate of declining 
Heathenism, was requested to send an able teacher of 
rhetoric to Milan, the second capital. of Italy, and the 
frequent residence of the emperor. The choice fell on 
Augustine. The recommendation of Manichaean patrons, 
and still more his trial-speech, obtained for him the 
honourable and lucrative post. He forsook Kome the 

* Conf. v. 10. Etenim suborta est etiam mihi cogitatio, pruden- 
tiores caeteris fuisse illos philosophos, quos Academicos appellant, 
quod de omnibus dubitandum esse censuerant, nee aliquid veri ab 
homine comprehendi posse decreverant. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 23 

more willingly, because the manners of the students in 
Eome did not please him. They were accustomed to 
leave one teacher in the midst of his course, without pay- 
ing their dues, and go to another. With this removal 
to Milan, we approach the great crisis in the life of 
Augustine, when he was freed for ever from the fetters 
of Manichaeism and Scepticism, and became a glorious, 
never-to-be-extinguished light in the Church of Jesus 
Christ. 



24 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 






CHAPTER IV. 

AUGUSTINE IN MILAN. — AMBEOSE AND THE CHUKCH. 
— MONICA'S ARRIVAL. 

In the spring of the year 384, Augustine, accompanied 
by his old friend Alypius, journeyed to Milan. The 
episcopal chair at that place was then filled by one of 
the most venerable of the Latin fathers, one who not 
only earned enduring honours in the sphere of theology, 
but also in that of sacred poetry and sacred music, and 
especially distinguished himself as an ecclesiastical prince, 
by the energetic and wise management of his diocese, 
and his bold defence of the interests of the Church, even 
against the emperor himself. Ambrose (for so this man 
was called) was born, at Treves, in the year 340, of a 
very ancient and illustrious Roman family. His father 
was governor of Gaul, one of the three great dioceses of 
the western Roman empire. When yet a little boy, as 
he lay sleeping in the cradle with his mouth open, a 
swarm of bees came buzzing around, and flew in and out 
of his mouth without doing him any injury. The father, 
astonished at the unexpected vanishing of the danger, 
cried out in a prophetic mood, " Truly, this child, if he 
lives, will turn out something great." A similar story is 
told of Plato. After the early death of the prefect, his 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 25 

pious widow moved to Rome with her three children, and 
gave them a careful education. Ambrose was marked 
out for a brilliant worldly career, by men, but not by 
God. After the completion of his studies, he made his 
appearance as an attorney, and acquitted himself so well 
by his eloquent discourses, that Probus, the governor of 
Italy, appointed him his counsellor. Soon after, he con- 
veyed to him the prefecture or vicegerency of the pro- 
vinces of Liguria and ^Emilia, in Upper Italy, with the 
remarkable words, afterwards interpreted as an involun- 
tary prophecy, — " Go, and act, not as judge, but bishop." 
Ambrose administered his office with dignity, justice, and 
clemency, and won for himself universal esteem. 

The Milan Church was then involved in the giant- 
battle between Arianism, which denied the divinity of 
Christ, and Nicene orthodoxy, which maintained the 
essential equality of the Son with the Father. Auxen- 
tius, an Arian, had succeeded in driving into exile the 
Catholic bishop, Dionysius, and usurping the episcopal 
chair; but he died in the year 374. At the election of 
a new bishop, bloody scenes were to be apprehended. 
Ambrose thought it his duty, as governor, to go into the 
church and silence the uproar of the parties. His speech 
to the assembled multitude was suddenly interrupted by 
the cry of a child, — " Ambrose ! Be bishop !" As swift 
as lightning the voice of the child became the voice of 
the people, who with one accord would have him and 
no other for their chief shepherd. Ambrose was con- 
founded. He was then still in the class of the catechu- 



26 THE LIFE AND LABOUES OF 

mens, and hence not baptized, and had, moreover, so high 
an opinion of the dignity and responsibility of the episco- 
pal office, that he deemed himself altogether unworthy 
of it and unfit for it. He resorted to flight, cunning, and 
the strangest devices in order to evade the call. But it 
availed nothing; and when now also the imperial con- 
firmation of the choice arrived, he submitted to the will 
of God, that addressed him so powerfully through these 
circumstances. After being baptized by an orthodox 
bishop, and having run through the different clerical 
stages, he received episcopal ordination on the eighth day. 

His friend Basil of Caeserea was highly rejoiced at the 
result. " We praise God," so he wrote, " that in all ages 
He chooses such as are pleasing to Him. He once chose 
a shepherd and set him up as ruler over his people. 
Moses, as he tended the goats, was filled with the Spirit 
of God, and raised to the dignity of a prophet. But in 
our days He sent out of the royal city, the metropolis of 
the world, a man of lofty spirit, distinguished by noble 
birth and the splendour of riches, and by an eloquence at 
which the world wonders, and who renounces all these 
earthly glories, and esteems them but loss, that he may 
win Christ, and accepts, on behalf of the Church, the helm 
of a great ship made famous by his faith. So be of good 
cheer, man of God ! " 

From this time forward till the day of his death, which 
occurred on Good Friday of the year 397, Ambrose acted 
the part of a genuine bishop. He was the shepherd of the 
congregation, the defender of the oppressed, the watchman 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 27 

of the Church, the teacher of the people, the adviser and 
reprover of kings in the highest sense of the word. He 
began by distributing his lands, his gold, and his silver, 
among the poor. His life was exceedingly severe and 
simple. He took no dinner, except on Saturdays, Sundays, 
and the festivals of celebrated martyrs. Invitations to 
banquets he declined, except when his office required his 
presence, and then he set an example of moderation. The 
day was devoted to the duties of his calling, the most of 
the night to prayer, meditation on Divine things, the 
study of the Bible and the Greek church-fathers, and the 
writing of theological works. He preached every Sun- 
day, and in cases of necessity during the week also, some- 
times twice a-day. To his catechumens he attended with 
especial care, but exerted an influence on a wider circle 
by means of his writings, in which old Roman vigour, 
dignity, and sententiousness, were united with a deep and 
ardent practical Christianity. He was easy of access to 
all, — to the lowest as well as to the highest. His revenues 
were given to the needy, whom he called, on this account, 
his stewards and treasurers. With dauntless heart he 
battled against the Arian heresy; and, as the Athanasius 
of the West, he helped Nicene orthodoxy to its triumph 
in Upper Italy. 

Such was Ambrose. If any one was fitted for winning 
over to the Church the highly-gifted stranger who came 
into his neighbourhood, it was he. Augustine visited the 
bishop, not as a Christian, but as a celebrated and eminent 
man. He was received by him with paternal kindness, 



28 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

and at once felt himself drawn toward him in love. 
" Unconsciously was I led to him, my God, by Thee, 
in order to be consciously led by him to Thee." He 
also frequently attended his preaching, not that he might 
be converted by him, and obtain food for his soul, but 
that he might listen to a beautiful sermon. The personal 
character and renown of Ambrose attracted him ; the in- 
fluence of curiosity was predominant; and yet it could not 
but happen that the contents of the discourses also should 
soon make an impression on him, even against his will. 
" I began to love him," says he, " not indeed at first as a 
teacher of the truth, which I despaired of finding in thy 
Church, but as a man worthy of my love. I often listened 
to his public discourses, not, I confess, with a pure motive, 
but only to prove if his eloquence were equal to his fame. 
I weighed his words carefully, whilst I had no interest in 
their meaning, or despised it. I was delighted with the 
grace of his language, which was more learned, more full 
of intrinsic value, but in delivery less brilliant and flatter- 
ing, than that of Faustus. In regard to the contents, 
there was no comparison between them; for whilst the 
latter conducted into Manichaean errors, the former taught 
salvation in the surest way. From sinners, like I was 
then, salvation is indeed far off; yet was I gradually and 
unconsciously drawing near to it. For, although it was 
not my wish to learn what he said, but only to hear how 
he said it, — this vain interest was left me, who despaired 
of the truth, — still, along with the words, which I loved, 
there stole also into my spirit the substance, which I had 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 29 

no care for, because I could not separate the two. And 
whilst I opened my heart to receive the eloquence which 
he uttered, the truth also, which he spake, found entrance, 
though by slow degrees."* 

By this preaching, the Old Testament was filled with 
new light to Augustine. He had imbibed a prejudice 
against it from the Manichaeans. He regarded it as little 
else than a letter that kills. Ambrose unfolded its life- 
giving spirit by means of allegorical interpretation, which 
was then in vogue among the church-fathers, especially 
of the Alexandrian school. Its aim was, above all, to 
spiritualise the historical parts of the Bible, and resolve 
the external husk into universal ideas. Thus, gross vio- 
lence was often done to the text, and things were dragged 
into the Bible which, to an unbiassed mind, were not 
contained there, — at least not in the exact place indicated. 
And yet this mode of interpretation was born of the spirit 
of faith and reverence, which bowed to the word of God 
as to an uncreated source of the most profound truths, and 
so far was almost always edifying. To Augustine, who 
himself used it freely in his writings, often to capricious- 
ness, although he afterwards inclined rather to a cautious, 
grammatical, and historical apprehension of the Scripture, 
it was then very acceptable, and had the good effect of 
weaning him still farther from Manichaeism. He soon 
threw it aside altogether. But even the Platonist philo- 
sophers, whom he preferred to it, he would not blindly 

* Conf. v. 13, 14. 



30 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

trust, because " the saving name of Christ was wanting in 
them," from which, according to that ineffaceable impres- 
sion of his pious childhood, he could never imagine the 
knowledge of the truth separated. 

We could suppose that he was now ready to cast him- 
self into the arms of the Church, which approached him 
by a representative so worthy and so highly-gifted. But 
he had not yet come so far. Various difficulties stood in 
the way. To think of God as a purely spiritual substance 
gave him peculiar trouble. In this he was yet under the 
influence of Manichaeism, which clothed the spiritual 
idea of God in a garb of sense. Nevertheless he took a 
considerable step in advance. He enrolled himself in the 
class of the catechumens, to which he had already be- 
longed when a boy, and resolved to remain there, until 
he could arrive at a decision in his own soul.* He says 
of his condition at this time, that he had come so far 
already, that any capable teacher would have found in 
him a most devoted and teachable scholar. 

Thus did our church-father resign himself to the ma- 
ternal care of the communion, in which he had received 
his early, indelible, religious impressions. It could not 
happen otherwise than, after an honest search, he should 
at last discover in her the supernatural glory, which, to 
the offence of the carnal understanding, was concealed 
under the form of a servant. A man, possessed of his 

* Conf. v. 14. Statui ergo tarn diu esse catachumenus in Catho- 
lica Ecclesia, mihi a parentibus commendata, donee aliquid certi 
eluceret, quo cursum dirigerem. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 31 

ardent longing after God, his tormenting thirst for truth 
and peace of mind, could obtain rest only in the asylum 
founded by God Himself, and see there all his desires 
fulfilled beyond his highest hopes. 

The Church had just then emerged from the bloody 
field of these witnesses who had joyfully offered up their 
lives, to show their gratitude and fidelity to the Lord 
who had died for them. Their heroic courage, which 
overcame the world ; their love, which was stronger than 
death; their patience, which endured the most unnatural 
tortures without a murmur, as a lamb led to the slaughter ; 
and their hope, which burst out in songs of triumph at 
the stake and on the cross, — were yet fresh in her me- 
mory. Everywhere, altars and chapels were erected to 
perpetuate their virtues. From a feeling of thankfulness 
for the victory so dearly purchased by their death, and 
in the consciousness of an uninterrupted communion with 
the glorified warriors, their heavenly birth-days were 
celebrated.* Whilst Heathenism, in the pride of its 
power, its literature, and its art, was falling into swift de- 
cay, the youthful Church, sure of her promise of eternal 
duration, pressed triumphantly forwards into a new era, 
to take possession of the wild hordes of the invading 
nations who destroyed the Koman empire, and commu- 
nicate to them, along with faith in the Eedeemer, civili- 
sation, morality, and the higher blessings of life. The 
most noble and profound spirits sought refuge in her 

* So were the days of their death called. 



32 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

communion, in which alone they could find rest for their 
souls, and quench their thirst after truth. She fearlessly 
withstood the princes and the potentates of earth, and re- 
minded them of righteousness and judgment. In that 
stormy and despotic period, she afforded shelter to the 
oppressed, was a kind and loving mother to the poor, the 
widow, and the orphan, and opened her rich treasures to 
all who needed help. Those who were weary of life 
found in the peaceful cells of her monasteries, in commu- 
nion with pilgrims of like spirit, an undisturbed retreat, 
where they could live at a trifling cost, and give them- 
selves wholly up to meditation on Divine things. Thus 
she cared for all classes, and brought consolation and 
comfort into every sphere of life. She zealously perse- 
vered in preaching and exhorting, in the education of 
youth for a better world, in prayer and in intercession 
for the bitterest enemies, and in ascriptions of glory to 
the Holy Trinity. Her devotion concentrated itself on 
the festivals recurring yearly in honour of the great facts 
of the Gospel, especially on Easter and Whitsuntide, 
when multitudes of catechumens, of both sexes and all 
ages, clad in white garments, the symbol of purity, were 
received into the ranks of Christ's warriors, amid fervent 
prayers and animating hymns of praise. How glorious 
it must have been to behold the prince bowing with the 
peasant in baptism before their common Lord, and the 
famous scholar sitting like a little child, and to hear 
blooming virgins, " those lilies of Christ," as Ambrose 
calls them, make their vow before the altar, to renounce 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 33 

the world and sin, and live for the heavenly Bridegroom ! 
The activity of Ambrose was in this respect richly re- 
warded. He frequently had, on the solemn night before 
Easter, as many incorporated into the communion of thn 
Church, by baptism, as any five other bishops together. 

Hence it came, that the Church of that time was, still, 
in the highest and fullest sense of the word, an undivided 
unity, without excluding, however, the greatest diversity 
of gifts and powers. And this it was that enabled her to 
overcome so victoriously all heresies and schisms, all 
persecutions, and at last the collected might of Heathen- 
ism itself. " One body and one spirit, one Lord, one faith, 
one baptism, one God and Father of all," — this declaration 
of the Apostle was more applicable to the first centuries 
of the Church than to any others since. The dweller on 
the Ehine found on the borders of the African desert, and 
the Syrian on the shores of the Rhine, the same confes- 
sion of faith, the same sanctifying power, and the same 
ritual of worship. The Christian of the fourth century 
felt himself in living communion with all the mighty 
dead who had long before departed in the service of the 
same Lord. That age had no idea of an interruption in 
the history of God's kingdom, — a sinking away of the life- 
stream of Christ. From the heart of God and his Son it 
has rolled down from the days of the Apostles, through 
the veins of the Church-catholic, amid certain infallible 
signs, in one unbroken current, to the. present, in order 
gradually to fertilise the whole round of earth, and empty 
itself into the ocean of eternity. 



34 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

And yet we have just as little reason to think the 
Church, at that time, free from faults and imperfections, 
as at any other period. Some dream indeed of a golden 
age of untroubled purity. But such an age has never 
been, and will only first appear, at the coming of Christ 
in his glory. Even the Apostolic Church was, in regard 
to its membership, by no means absolutely pure and holy; 
for we need only read attentively and with unbiassed 
mind any Epistle of the New Testament, or the letters to 
the seven Churches in the Apocalypse, in order to be 
convinced, that they collectively reproved the congrega- 
tions, to which they were sent, for various faults, excres- 
censes, and perversions, and warned them of manifold 
dangers and temptations. When, moreover, through the 
conversion of Constantine, the great mass of the Eoman 
heathen- world crowded into the Church, they dragged 
along with them also an amount of corruption, which it 
was not possible to overcome in a brief space of time. A 
very sad and dreary picture of the Christianity of the 
Mcene period can be drawn from the writings of the 
church-fathers of the fourth century, — Gregory Nazi- 
anzen for example, — so that the later Catholic Church, 
in comparison, appears in many respects like an improve- 
ment. But, in spite of all this, there were yet remedies 
and salt enough to preserve the body from corruption. 
The militant Church, in her continuous conflict with a 
sinful world, must ever authenticate and develope the 
power of genuine sanctity ; and this she did during the 
Nicene period. Who can mistake the agency of the Holy 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 35 

Ghost, who, amidst the stormy and wildly-passionate bat- 
tles with Arianism and semi-Arianism, at last helped the 
Nicene faith to victory? And who will venture to deny 
his genuine admiration to those great heroes of the fourth 
century, an Athanasius, a Basil, a Gregory of Nyssa, a 
Gregory of Nazianzen, aChrysostom, and an Ambrose, who 
were distinguished as much by earnestness and dignity of 
character, and depth and vigour of piety, as by their emi- 
nent learning and culture, and who are even to this day 
gratefully honoured by the Greek, the Roman, and the 
Protestant communions, as true church fathers ? Not- 
withstanding all the corruption in her bosom, the Catholic 
Church of that age was still immeasurably elevated above 
Heathenism sinking into hopeless ruin, and the conceited 
and arrogant schools of the Gnostics and Manichaeans ; for 
she, and she alone, was the bearer of the Divine-human 
life, powers of salvation, and the hope of the world. 

Such was the state of the Church, when Augustine 
entered the class of catechumens, and listened attentively 
to her doctrines. His good genius, Monica, soon came 
to Milan, as one sent by God. She could no longer stay 
in Africa without her son, and embarked for Italy. 
While at sea, a storm arose which made the oldest sailors 
tremble. But she, feeling strong and secure under the 
protection of the Almighty, encouraged them all, and 
confidently predicted a happy termination to the voyage ; 
for God had promised it to her in a vision. In Milan 
she found her son delivered from the snares of Mani- 
chaeism, but not yet a believing professor. She was 



36 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

highly rejoiced, and accepted the partial answer of her 
tearful prayers as a pledge of their speedy and complete 
fulfilment. "My son," said she, with strong assurance, 
" I believe in Christ, that before I depart this life, I will 
see thee become a believing Catholic Christian ! " * She 
found favour with Ambrose, who often spoke of her with 
great respect, and thought the son happy who had such 
a mother. She regularly attended his ministrations, and 
willingly gave up certain church-usages, which, though 
observed by her at home, were not in vogue at Milan, 
such as fasting on Saturdays, and love-feasts at the graves 
of the martyrs. With renewed fervor and confidence she 
now prayed to God, who had already led the idol of he 
heart to the gates of the sanctuary. She was soon to 
witness the fulfilment of her desires. 



* Conf. vi. 1. Placidissime et pectore pleno fiduciae respondit 
mihi, credere se in Christo, quod priusquam de hac vita emigraret, 
me visura esset fidelem catholicum. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 37 



CHAPTER V. 

AUGUSTINE'S STRUGGLES. — STUDY OF PLATO AND THE 
EPISTLES OP ST. PAUL. 

Augustine continued to listen to the discourses of Am- 
brose, and to visit him at his house, although the bishop, 
on account of pressing duties, could not enter, so fully as 
he wished, into his questions and doubts. He now ob- 
tained a more just idea of the doctrines of the Scriptures 
and the Church, than the perversions of the Manichaeans 
had afforded him. He saw, " that all the knots of cun- 
ning misrepresentation, which these modern betrayers of 
the Divine word had tied up, could be unloosed, and that 
for so many years he had been assailing, not the real faith 
of the Church, but chimeras of a fleshly imagination." 
He now first began to prize and comprehend the Bible in 
some measure, whilst, before, it had been to him a dis- 
agreeable volume, sealed with seven seals; and such it 
ever is to all those who wilfully tear it loose from living 
Christianity in the Church of the Lord, and drag it into 
the forum of the carnal understanding, " which perceives 
not the things of the Spirit of God," and thus factiously 
constitute themselves judges over it, instead of surrender- 
ing themselves to it in humble obedience. 



38 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

Meanwhile, he had many practical and theoretical 
struggles to pass through, before reaching a final decision. 
About this time, in conjunction with his friends, among 
whom were Alypius, who had come with him to Milan, 
and Nebridius, who had lately left Africa, in order to 
live together with Augustine " in the most ardent study 
of truth and wisdom," he resolved to form a philosophi- 
cal union, and, in undisturbed retirement, with a com- 
munity of goods, to devote himself exclusively to the 
pursuit of truth. In such a self-created, ideal world, 
which commended itself to the lofty imagination of one 
so gifted and noble as Augustine was, he sought a sub- 
stitute for the reality of Christianity, and the deeper 
earnestness of practical churchly life and activity. " Di- 
verse thoughts were thus in our hearts, but thy counsel, 
God, abides in eternity. According to that counsel 
Thou didst laugh at ours, and work out thine own, to 
bestow on us the Spirit at the set time." " Whilst the 
winds were blowing from every quarter, and tossing my 
heart to and fro, time went by, and I delayed in turning 
to the Lord, and put off living in Thee from day to day, 
and did not put off dying daily in myself. Desiring a 
life of blessedness, I shunned the place where it dwelt, 
and, flying thence, did seek after it." * 

The romantic scheme fell to pieces, because the friends 
could not agree as to whether marriage ought to be 
wholly forbidden in their philosophic hermitage, as Aly- 

* Conf. vi. 1 1 . Amans beatam vitam, timebam illam in sede sua, 
et ab ea fugiens, quaerebam earn. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 39 

pius desired, in the fashion of the ascetic piety of that 
age, or not, as Augustine proposed. He was unable then 
to give up the love of women. " I believed I would 
become very unhappy, if I was deprived of the embraces 
of woman, and I did not consider the medicine of thy 
grace for the healing of this weakness, for I was inexpe- 
rienced; for I esteemed continency an affair of natural 
ability, of which I was not conscious, and was foolishly 
ignorant of what the Scripture says (Wisdom 8. 21), no 
one can be continent, unless God gives him power. 
Surely Thou wouldst have given it me, had I prayed to 
Thee with inward groaning, and with firm faith cast my 
care upon Thee." * On this account Augustine resolved 
to enter into formal wedlock, though, for certain reasons, 
the resolution was never carried into effect. His mother, 
who, in common with the whole Church of that era, 
regarded perfect abstinence as a higher grade of virtue, 
still, under the circumstances, eagerly laid hold of the 
plan. In the haven of marriage she believed him secure 
from debauchery, and then every hindrance to his bap- 
tism, which she so ardently desired, was also taken away. 
Both looked around for a suitable match. The choice 
was not easily made, for Augustine wished to find beauty, 
amiability, refinement, and some wealth, united in one 
person. In this matter the mother, as usual, took coun- 
sel of God in prayer ; and at last a lady was discovered, 
answerable to their wishes, who also gave her consent; 

*Conf. vi. 11. 



40 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

but, because of her youth, the nuptials had to be post- 
poned for two years longer. Augustine immediately dis- 
charged his mistress, whom he had brought with him 
from Carthage, and who, as one would think, was best 
entitled to the offer of his hand. The unhappy outcast, 
who appears to have loved him truly, and had been 
faithful to him, as he to her, during thirteen years of 
their intercourse, returned to Africa with heavy heart, 
and vowed that she would never know any other man. 
Their natural son, Adeodatus, she left with his father. 
Just after the separation, Augustine felt with bleeding 
heart the strength of his unlawful attachment. But 
so strong had the power of sensuality become in him 
through habit, that neither recollections of the departed, 
nor respect for his bride, could restrain him from forming 
a new immoral connection for the interval. Along with 
this carnal lust came also the seductions of ambition, and 
a longing after a brilliant career in the world. He felt 
very miserable; he must have been ashamed before his 
own better self, before God and man. " But the more 
miserable I felt, the nearer didst Thou come to me, 
God." The Disposer of his life had his hand over all 
this. "I thought, and Thou wert with me; I sighed, 
and Thou heardest me; I was tossed about, yet Thou 
didst pilot me ; I wandered on the broad way, and still 
Thou didst not reject me." 

Yet more violent and painful were his theoretical con- 
flicts, — the tormenting doubts of his philosophic spirit. 
The question concerning the origin of evil, which once 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 41 

attracted him to the Manichaeans, was again brooded 
over with renewed interest. The heresy, that evil is a 
substance, and co-eternal with God, he had rejected. 
But whence then was it ? The Church found its origin 
in the will of the creature, who was in the beginning 
good, and of his own free choice estranged himself from 
God. But here the question arose, — Is not the possibi- 
lity of evil, imprinted by God in its creation on the will, 
itself already the germ of evil ? Or could not God, as the 
Almighty, have so created the will, as to render the fall 
impossible ? How can He then be a being of perfect 
goodness ? And if we transfer the origin of evil, as the 
Church does, from the human race to Satan, through 
whose temptation Adam fell, the difficulty is not thereby 
settled, but only pushed farther back. Whence then the 
devil ? And if he was first transformed from a good 
angel into a devil by a wicked will, whence then that 
wicked will ? Here he was again met by the spectre of 
Gnostic and Manichaean dualism, but soon reverted to 
the idea of the absolute God, whom he had made the 
immovable ground-pillar of his thinking, and who natu- 
rally cannot suffer the admission of a second absolute 
existence. Perhaps evil is a mere shadow? But how 
can anything unreal and empty prepare such fears and 
torments for the conscience ? He revolved such questions 
in his mind, and found no peace. " Thou, my God, Thou 
alone knowest what I suffered, but no one among men." 
He was not able to communicate fully the tumult of his 
soul even to his most intimate friends. But these con- 



42 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

flicts had the good effect of driving him to prayer, and 
strengthening in him the conviction, that mind, left to 
itself, can never reach a satisfactory result. 

About this time, somewhere in the beginning of the 
year 386, he fell in with certain Platonic and New 
Platonic writings, translated into Latin by the rhetori- 
cian Victorinus, who in after life was converted to Chris- 
tianity. No doubt he had a general acquaintance with 
this philosophy before. But now for the first time he 
studied it earnestly in its original sources, to which he 
was introduced by an admiring disciple. He himself 
says that it kindled in him an incredible ardour.* Pla- 
tonism is beyond dispute the noblest product of heathen 
speculation, and stands in closer contact with revelation 
than all the other philosophical systems of antiquity. It 
is in some measure an unconscious prophecy of Christ, in 
whom alone its bold ideals can ever become truth and 
reality. The Platonic philosophy is distinguished by a 
well-marked character, which elevates it above the ma- 
terialistic doings and sensual views of every-day life into 
the invisible world, to the ideals of truth, beauty, and 
virtue. It is indeed philosophy, or love of wisdom, 
home-sickness, deep longing after truth. It reminds 
man of his original likeness to God, and thus gives him a 
glimpse of the true end of all his endeavour. Platonism 

* Contr. Academ. 1. ii. § 5. Etiam mihi ipsi de me ipso incredibile 
incendium in me concitarunt. Comp. my Church History, vol. i. 
p. 97, where the relation of Platonism to Christianity and to the 
church-fathers is settled in detail. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 43 

also approaches revelation in several of its special doc- 
trines, at least in the form of obscure intimation. We 
may here mention its presentiment of the unity, and in a 
certain measure the trinity, of the Divine Being; the 
conception that the world of ideas is alone true and 
eternal, and the world of sense its copy; and, further, that 
the human soul has fallen away from a condition of 
original purity, and merited its present suffering existence 
in the prison of the body, but that it should have long- 
ing aspirations after its home, the higher world, free 
itself from the bands of sense, and strive after the highest 
spiritual and eternal good. Hence it was no wonder 
that Platonism, to many cultivated heathens and some 
of the most prominent church -fathers, especially in the 
Greek Church, became a theoretical schoolmaster for 
leading to Christ, as the Law was a practical school- 
master to the Jews. It delivered Augustine completely 
from the bondage of Manichaean dualism and Academic 
scepticism, and turned his gaze inward and toward the 
world of ideas. In the height of his enthusiasm he be- 
lieved that he had already discovered the hidden fountain 
of wisdom. But he had soon to learn, that not the 
abstract knowledge of the truth, but living in it alone, 
could give peace to the soul; and that this end could 
only be reached in the way of the Church, and practical 
experience of the heart. 

Although the Platonic philosophy contained so many 
elements allied to Christianity, there were yet two im- 
portant points not found therein : first, the great mystery 



44 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

— the Word made flesh; and then — Love resting on the 
basis of humility.* The Platonic philosophy held up 
before him beautiful ideals without giving him power to 
attain them. If he attempted to seize them, ungodly 
impulses would suddenly drag him down again into the 
mire. 

Thus, the admonition to study the Holy Scriptures was 
addressed to him once more, and in a stonger tone than 
ever. He now gave earnest heed to it, and drew near the 
holy volume with deep reverence, and a sincere desire 
for salvation. He was principally carried away with the 
study of the Epistles of St. Paul, f and read them through 
collectively with the greatest care and admiration. Here 
he found all those truths, which addressed him in Pla- 
tonism, no longer obscurely foreshadowed, but fulfilled, 
and yet much more besides. Here he found Christ, as 
the Mediator between God and man, between heaven and 
earth, who alone can give us power to attain those lofty 
ideals, and embody them in life. Here he read that mas- 
terly delineation of the conflict between the spirit and 
the flesh (Eom. 7.) which was literally confirmed by his 
own experience. Here he learned to know aright the 
depth of the ruin, and the utter impossibility of being 
delivered from it by any natural wisdom or natural 



* Conf. vii. 20. Ubi enim erat ilia aedificans caritas a funda- 
mento humilitatis, quod est Christus Jesus? Aut quando illi libri 
(Platonici) docerent me earn ? 

•j- Conf. vii. 21. Itaque avidissime adripui venerabilem stilum 
Spiritus tui, et prae caeteris Apostolum Paulum. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 45 

strength, and at the same time the great remedy, which 
God graciously offers to us in his Incarnate Son. Such 
light, such consolation, and such power the Platonic 
writings had never yielded. " On their pages," he says, 
very beautifully, in the close of the seventh book of his 
"Confessions," "no traces of piety like this can be dis- 
covered: tears of penitence, thy sacrifice, the broken 
spirit, the humble and the contrite heart, the healing of 
the nations, the Bride, the City of God, the cup of our 
salvation. No one sings there, * Truly my soul waiteth 
upon God : from Him cometh my salvation. He only is 
my rock and my salvation ; He is my defence ; I shall not 
be greatly moved' (Ps. 62. 2, 3). There no one hears 
the invitation, — ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest ' (Matt. 11. 28). 
They (the Platonists) disdain to learn of Him, who is 
meek and lowly in heart; they cannot imagine why the 
lowly should teach the lowly, nor understand what is 
meant by his taking the form of a servant. For Thou 
hast hidden it from the wise and prudent, and revealed it 
unto babes. It is one thing, to see afar off, from the 
summit of a woody mountain, the fatherland of peace, 
and, without any path leading thither, to wander around, 
lost and weary, among by-ways, haunted by lions and 
dragons, that lurk in ambush for their prey, — and quite 
another, to keep safely on a road that leads thither, 
guarded by the care of a Celestial Captain, where no 
robbers, who have forsaken the heavenly army, ever lie 
in wait. This made such a wonderful impression on my 



46 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

spirit, when I read the humblest of thine Apostles 
(1 Cor. 15. 9), and considered thy works, and saw the 
depths of sin." 



CHAPTER VI. 

Augustine's conversion. 

We now stand on the threshold of his conversion. Theo- 
retically, he was convinced of the truth of the doctrines 
of the Church, but practically had yet to undergo in his 
bitter experience the judgment of St. Paul, — " The flesh 
lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh" 
(Gal. 5. 17). No sooner did his soul rise into the pure 
ether of communion with God, than the cords of sense 
drew him down again into the foul atmosphere of earth. 
" The world," said he, " lost its charms before thy sweet- 
ness and before the glory of thy house, which I had 
learned to love ; but I was yet bound by strong ties to a 
woman." "I had found the beautiful pearl: I should 
have sold all I possessed to buy it, and yet I hesitated." 
Amid the tumult of the world, he often sighed after 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 47 

solitude. Desiring counsel, and unwilling to disturb the 
indefatigable Ambrose, he betook himself to the vener- 
able priest, Simplicianus, who had grown gray in the 
service of his Master. The latter described to him, for 
his encouragement, the conversion of his friend Victo- 
rinus, the learned teacher of oratory at Kome, and the 
translator of the Platonic writings, who had passed over 
from the Platonic philosophy to a zealous study of the 
Scriptures, and cordially embraced the Saviour, with a 
sacrifice of great worldly gain. For a long time he be- 
lieved he could be a Christian without joining the Church; 
and when Simplicianus replied to him, " I will not count 
you a Christian before I see you in the Church of Christ," 
Victorinus asked with a smile, " Do the walls, then, 
make Christians?"* But afterwards he came to see, 
that he who does not confess Christ openly before the 
world, need not hope to be confessed by Him before his 
heavenly Father (Matt. 10. 32, 33), and therefore sub- 
mitted in humble faith to the washing of holy baptism. 
Augustine wished to do likewise, but his will was not 
yet strong enough. He compares his condition to that 
of a man, who, drunk with sleep, wishes to rise up, but 
who, for the first time, truly feeling the sweetness of 
slumber, sinks back again into its arms. In a still 
more warning and pressing tone the voice sounded in his 

* Conf. viii. 2. Ergo parietes faciunt Christianos? This pas- 
sage is sometimes torn from its connection, and misused for a 
purpose directly opposite, since Augustine quotes it to show that a 
man could not be a Christian without joining the visible Church. 



48 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

ears, — "Wake, thou that sleepest, and rise from the 
dead, and Christ shall give thee light" (Eph. 5. 14); 
but he answered lazily, " Soon, yes soon ! Only wait a 
little " ; and the soon passed on into hours, days, and weeks. 
In vain his inward man delighted in the law of God, for 
another law in his members warred against the law of 
his mind, and brought him into captivity to the law of 
sin (Eom. 7. 22, 23). His disquietude rose higher and 
higher, his longing became violent agony. Oftentimes 
he would tear his hair, smite his forehead, wring his 
hands about his knees, and cry out despairingly, " 
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the 
body of this death?" (Rom. 7. 24.) 

These conflicts, in connection with the weight of his 
literary labours, had exerted such an injurious influence 
on his health, that he began to think seriously of resign- 
ing his post as rhetorician. One day, as he sat in a down- 
cast mood, with his bosom-friend Alypius, who was 
involved in similar struggles, their countryman Ponti- 
tianus, a superior officer in the Roman army, and at the 
same time a zealous Christian, entered the chamber. 
He was surprised, instead of a classic author or a Mani- 
chaean writer, to see the Epistles of the Apostle Paul 
lying on the table. He began a religious conversation, 
and in the course of his remarks took occasion to speak 
of the Egyptian hermit Antony (356 A. D.), who, in 
literal pursuance of the Saviour's advice to the rich 
young man (Matt. 19. 21), had given up all his property, 
in order to live to the Lord, unrestricted and undisturbed 






ST. AUGUSTINE. 49 

in solitude, and there to work out the salvation of his 
soul. The two friends had as yet heard nothing of the 
wonderful saint of the desert, the venerable father of 
Monachism; and just as little of a cloister outside of the 
walls of Milan, under the supervision of Ambrose; and 
were now charmed and ashamed at the information. 
Their countryman related further, how, during his stay 
at Treves, two' of his friends, who were both engaged at 
the time, obtained, on a visit to a cell, the biography of 
Antony, by Athanasius; and, on reading it, fell so in love 
with the contemplative life and the higher perfection 
there portrayed, that they threw up their commissions in 
the army, and took leave of the world for ever. Their 
brides did likewise. This was a sting for the conscience 
of Augustine. They had heard the call of the Lord only 
once, and obeyed it immediately. And he ! It was now 
more than twelve years since the " Hortensius " of Cicero 
had stirred him up so powerfully to search after truth, 
and ever clearer and clearer the voice of the Good Shep- 
herd had sounded in his ears; and yet his will rose up in 
rebellion : he was not ready to renounce the world wholly, 
but desired to retain at least some of its pleasures. 

Pontitianus left the house. Then the storm in the 
soul of Augustine broke loose with greater violence, and 
expressed itself in the features of his countenance, his 
looks, and his gestures, still more than in his words. 
" What has happened us? " said he to Alypius; " What 
is it? What hast thou heard? The unlearned rise up 
and lay hold of the kingdom of heaven; and we, with 



50 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

our heartless knowledge ! — see ! how we wallow in flesh 
and blood ! Shall we be ashamed to follow them, be- 
cause they have gone before, and not ashamed not to 
follow them at all?"* 

After he had said this, and more in a similar strain, he 
rushed out, with the Epistles of Paul in his hand, into 
an adjoining garden, where no one would be likely to 
interrupt the agitation of his soul, until God Himself 
should allay it. For it was, as he said, despair or salva- 
tion, death or life. Alypius followed in his footsteps. 
" We removed as far as possible from the house. I 
groaned in spirit, full of stormy indignation, that I had 
not entered into covenant and union with Thee, my God; 
and all my bones cried out, ' Thither must thou go ! ' 
But it was not possible to go by ship, or waggon, or on 
foot, as we go to any spot we please. For going thither 
and coming there is nothing else than to will to go thi- 
ther, and to will with full power; not to waver and be 
tossed to and fro with a divided will, which now rises up 
and now sinks down in the struggle." f He was angry 
at the perverseness of his will. " The spirit orders the 
body, and it obeys instantly; the spirit orders itself, and 
it refuses. The spirit orders the hand to move, and it 
does it so quickly, that one can scarcely distinguish be- 

* Conf. viii. 8. An quia praecesserunt, pudet sequi, et non pudet 
nee saltern sequi ? 

f Conf. viii. 8. Nam non solum ire, verum etiam pervenire illuc, 
nihil erat aliud, quam velle ire, sed velle fortiter et integre, non 
semisauciam hac atque hac versare et jactare voluntatem, parte 
adsurgente cum alia parte cadente luctantem. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 51 

tween the act and the command ; the spirit commands the 
spirit to will, and although the same, it will not do it. 
Whence this unbelief? It is a disease of the spirit that 
prevents it from rising up ; the will is split and divided ; 
thus there are two wills in conflict with each other, one 
good and one evil; and I myself it was who willed and 
who did not will." Thus was he pulled hither and thi- 
ther, accusing himself more severely than ever, and turn- 
ing and rolling in his fetters, until they should be wholly 
broken, by which, indeed, he was no longer wholly bound, 
but only yet. 

And when he had thus dragged up alj. his misery from 
its mysterious depth, and gathered it before the eye of his 
soul, a huge storm arose that discharged itself in a flood 
of tears.* In such a frame of mind, he wished to be 
alone with his God, and withdrew from Alypius into a 
retired corner of the garden. Here Augustine, he knew 
not how, threw himself down upon the earth, under a 
fig-tree, and gave free vent to his tears. " Thou, my 
Lord," he cried, with sobbing voice; "how long yet? 
Lord, how long yet wilt Thou be angry? Kemember 
not the sins of my youth ! How long? how long? To- 
morrow, and again to-morrow? Why not to-day? Why 
not now? Why not in this hour put an end to my 
shame?" f Thus he prayed, supplicated, sighed, wrestled, 

* Conf. viii. 12. Procella ingens, ferens ingentem imbrem lacryma- 
rum. 

f Conf. viii. 12. Et non quidem his verbis, sed in hac sententia 
multa dixi tibi : Et tu, Domine, usque quo? Usque quo, Domine, 



52 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

and wept bitterly. They were the birth-pangs of the 
new life. From afar he saw the Church in the beauty of 
her holiness. The glorified spirits of the redeemed, who 
had been snatched from the abyss by the All-merciful, 
and transplanted, into a heavenly state of being, beckoned 
to him. Still more powerfully the longing burned with- 
in; still more hot and rapidly beat the pulse of desire 
after the Saviour's embrace : as a weary hunted stag after 
the fresh water-brooks, so panted his heart after the 
living God, and a draught from the^chalice of his grace. 
The hour of deliverance had now come. The Lord 
had already stretched out his hand to tear asunder the 
last cords that bound his prodigal son to the world, and 
press him to a warm, true Father's heart. As Augustine 
was thus lying in the dust and ashes of repentance, and 
agonising with his God in prayer, he suddenly heard 
from a neighbouring house, as though from some celestial 
height, the sweet voice, whether of a boy or a maiden he 
knew not, calling out again and again, " Tolle lege, 
tolle lege!" i. e., "Take and read, take and read!" It 
was a voice from God, that decided his heart and life. 
" Then I repressed," so he further relates, in the last 
chapter of the eighth book of his " Confessions," "the 
gush of tears, and raised myself up, whilst I received the 
word as nothing else than a Divine injunction to open 

irasceris in finem ? Ne memor fueris iniquitatum nostrarum anti- 
quarum ? Sentiebam enim eis me teneri. Jactabam voces misera- 
biles: Quamdiu? quamdiu? Cras etcras? Quare non modo? 
Quare non hac hora finis turpitudinis meae? Dicebam haec, et 
flebam amarissima contritione cordis mei. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 53 

the Scriptures, and read the first chapter that would 
catch my eye. I had heard how Antony, once accidentally 
present during the reading of the Gospel in church, had 
felt himself admonished, as though what was read had 
been specially aimed at him : ' Go thy way, sell all that 
thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have trea- 
sure in heaven; and come, follow me' (Matt. 19. 21); and 
that by this oracle he had been immediately converted, 
my God, to Thee." Hastening to the place where he had 
left the holy Book, and where Alypius sat, he snatched 
it up, opened, and read, " Let us walk honestly, as in the 
day : not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering 
and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on 
the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the 
flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof" (Rom. 13. 13, 14).* 

This passage of the Epistle to the Romans was exactly 
suited to his circumstances. It called on him to renounce 
his old, wild life, and begin a new life with Christ. He 
found still more in it, according to the ascetic spirit of 
the age, and resolved to renounce all the honours and 
pleasures of the world, even his contemplated marriage, 
in order to devote himself without restraint to the service 



* After the original and the Vulgate : JEt carnis providentiam ne 
feceritis in concupiscentiis ; which Augustine, in his present condi- 
tion, understood as a challenge to renounce completely every desire 
of the flesh. Luther, on the contrary, has translated it : " Wartet 
des Leibes, doch also, dass er nicht geil werde," which gives a 
different sense. But in such a case, o-co/xa would be used in the 
Greek, instead of adp^ and the particle pjj would stand after, and 
not before, irpovoiav. 



54 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

of the Lord and his Church, and, if possible, to attain the 
highest grade of moral perfection.* He read no further. 
That single word of God was sufficient to decide his whole 
future. The gloomy clouds of doubt and despondency 
rolled away ; the forgiveness of his sins was sealed to 
him ; peace and joy streamed into his bosom. With 
his finger on the passage read, he shut the book, and 
told Alypius what had happened. The latter wished 
to read the words, and hit upon the next-following verse 
(14. 1), " Him that is weak in the faith, receive ye." He 
applied the warning to himself. Both hastened, in the 
first ardour of conversion, to Monica. The faithful soul 
must hear the glad tidings before others. She cried 
aloud and exulted, and her heart overflowed with thank- 
fulness to the Lord, who, at last, after long, long delay, 
had answered beyond her prayers and comprehension. 

This occurred in September of the year 386, in the 
thirty-third year of his life. We agree with the words of 
Augustine : " All, who worship Thee, must, when they 
hear this, cry out, ' Blessed be the Lord in heaven and 
on earth ; great and wonderful is his name ! ' " 

* Confes. viii. 12. Convertisti me ad te, ut nee uxorem quaere- 
rem, nee aliquam spem saeculi hujus, etc. Antony, whose example 
wrought powerfully in the conversion of Augustine, had, in literal 
accordance with the words of Christ (Matt. 19. 21), sold all that he 
had, and given to the poor. According to the views of the ancient 
Church, which can be traced back as far as the second century, 
voluntary poverty, celibacy, and martyrdom, were not at all indeed 
a condition of salvation, but the way to a more literal following of 
Christ, and a higher grade of religious perfection. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 55 



CHAPTEK VII. 

augustine's sojourn in the country. — his ac- 
tivity AS AN AUTHOR. — HIS RETURN TO MILAN, 
AND BAPTISM. 

Augustine continued in office the few remaining weeks 
till the autumnal holidays, and then handed in his resig- 
nation, partly on account of a weakness of the breast, but 
chiefly because he had firmly resolved to consecrate him- 
self henceforth wholly and entirely to the pursuit of 
Divine things. Along with his mother, his son, his 
brother JNTavigius, Alypius, and other friends, he now 
withdrew to Cassiciacum, a villa lying near Milan, which 
belonged to his friend Verecundus. He passed several 
months there in quiet meditation, preparing for the rite 
of holy baptism. He had asked the advice of Ambrose 
as to what parts of the Scripture he ought to study under 
his peculiar circumstances. The bishop recommended 
the prophecies of Isaiah ; but as Augustine could not 
rightly understand them, he selected the Psalms, and 
found there just what he desired, — the hallowed expres- 
sion of his deepest religious feelings, from the low, sad 
wail of penitence and contrition up to the inspiring song 
of praise to the Divine Mercy. Half the night he spent 
in their study, and in pious meditation, and enjoyed 



56 THE LIFE AND LABOUES OF 

most blessed hours of intimate communion with the 
Lord. He now mourned over and pitied the Mani- 
chaeans for being so blind in regard to the Old Testa- 
ment. " I wished only," he once thought, "they could 
have been in my neighbourhood without my knowing 
it, and could have seen my face and have heard my voice, 
when in that retirement I read the fourth Psalm, and 
how that Psalm wrought upon me." 

A great part of the day he devoted to the education 
of two young men from his native city. His propensity 
for speculative meditation was so strong, that he resorted 
with his company, in good weather, to the shade of a 
large tree, and in bad, to the halls of the baths belonging 
to the villa, and, walking up and down in the freest 
manner, delivered discourses on those philosophical sub- 
jects which stood in the nearest relation to the most 
weighty practical interests of the heart, such as the 
knowledge of the truth, the idea of genuine wisdom, the 
life of blessedness, and the way to it. These discourses 
were written down, and thus the earliest works of the 
great theologian, mostly philosophical in their contents, 
took their rise. Of these the most important are, first, 
three books against the sceptical school of the Later 
Academy (contra Academicos), which denied the possi- 
bility of knowing the truth. In opposition, it was shown, 
that scepticism either abrogates itself, or, in a modified 
form, as a scheme of probabilities, bears witness to the 
existence of truth ; for the probable must pre-suppose the 
true. Not the mere striving after truth, only the pos- 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 57 

session of it, can render happy. But it is only to be 
found in God, since he alone is happy who is in God 
and God in him. And second, the tract on the Life 
of Blessedness (de Beata Vita), in which these latter 
thoughts are further developed. And last, his Solilo- 
quies, or Discourses with his own Soul, concerning God, 
concerning the highest good, concerning his own nature, 
immortality, and the like. From these we will quote a 
single passage, to show the state of his mind at that time. 
" God, Creator of the world," thus he prayed to the 
Lord, " grant me first of all grace to call upon Thee, in 
a manner well pleasing unto Thee, that I may so conduct 
myself, that Thou mayest hear, and then help me. Thou 
God, through whom all, that cannot be of itself, rises 
into being ; who even dost not suffer to fall into de- 
struction what would destroy itself ; who never workest 
evil, and rulest over the power of evil ; who revealest 
unto the few, who seek after a true existence, that evil 
can be overcome ; God, to whom the universe, in spite 
of evil, is perfect ; God, whom what can love, loves con- 
sciously or unconsciously ; God, in whom all is, and 
whom yet neither the infamy of the creature can dis- 
grace, nor his wickedness defile, nor his error lead astray ; 
God, who hast preserved the 4 knowledge of the truth for 
the pure alone ; Father of truth, Father of wisdom, 
Father of true and perfect life, Father of blessedness, 
Father of the good and the beautiful, Father of our 
awakening and enlightening, Father of the promise by 
which we are encouraged to return to Thee : I invoke 



58 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

Thee, Truth, in which and from which and by which 
all is true that is true ; Wisdom, in which and from 
which and by which all is wise that is wise ; true and 
most perfect Life, in which and from which and by 
which all lives that lives true and perfect ; Blessed- 
ness, in which and from which and by which all is blessed 
that is blessed ; Beauty and Goodness, in which and 
from which and by which all is good and beautiful that 
is good and beautiful ; spiritual Light, in which and 
from which and by which all is spiritually light that is 
spiritually light ; God, from whom to turn away is to fall, 
to whom to turn again is to rise, in whom to remain is to 
endure ; God, from whom to withdraw is to die, to whom 
to return is to live again, in whom to dwell is to live ; 

God, Thou who dost sanctify and prepare us for an 
everlasting inheritance, bow down Thyself to me in pity ! 
come to my help, Thou one, eternal, true Essence, in 
whom there is no discord, no confusion, no change, no 
need, no death, but the highest unity, the highest purity, 
the highest durability i the highest fulness, the highest life. 
Hear, hear, hear me, my God, my Lord, my King, my 
Father, my Hope, my Desire, my Glory, my Habitation, 
my Home, my Salvation, my Light, my Life, hear, hear, 
hear me, as Thou art wont to hear thy chosen ! Already, 

1 love Thee alone, follow Thee alone, seek Thee alone, 
am prepared to serve Thee only, because Thou alone 
rulest in righteousness. command and order what 
Thou wilt, but heal and open my ears, that I may hear 
thy word ; heal and open my eyes, that I may see thy 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 59 

nod ; drive out my delusion, that I may recognise Thee 
again. gracious Father, take back again thy wanderer. 
Have I not been chastised enough ? Have I not long 
enough served thine enemies, whom Thou hast under thy 
feet — long enough been the sport of deception ? Receive 
me as thy servant ; for I fly from those who received me 
as a stranger, when I fled from Thee. Increase in me 
faith, hope, love, according to thy wonderful and ini- 
mitable goodness. I desire to come to Thee, and again 
implore Thee for that by which I may come. For where 
Thou forsakest, there is destruction ; but Thou dost not 
forsake, because Thou art the Highest Good, which every 
one who seeks aright will surely find. But he seeks 
it aright, to whom Thou hast given power to seek 
aright. Grant me power, Father, to seek Thee aright ! 
Shield me from error ! Let me not, when I seek, find 
another in thy stead. I desire none other but Thee ; 
let me yet find Thee, my Father ! But such a desire is 
vain, since Thou Thyself canst purify me, and fit me to 
behold Thee. Whatever else the welfare of my mortal 
body may need, I commit into thy hands, most wise and 
gracious Father, as long as I do not know what may be 
good for me, or those whom I love; and will therefore 
pray, just as Thou wilt make it known at the time ; only 
this I beseech out of thy great mercy, that Thou wilt 
convert me wholly unto Thyself, and, when I obtain 
Thee, suffer me to be nothing else ; and grant also, that, 
as long as I live and bear about this body, I may be 
pure and magnanimous, just and wise, filled with love 



60 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

and the knowledge of thy wisdom, and worthy of an 
entrance into thy blessed kingdom." 

There are few traces of a specifically Christian and 
Catholic character in these writings. They exhibit ra- 
ther a Platonism, full of high thoughts, ideal views, and 
subtle dialectics, informed and hallowed by the spirit 
of Christianity. Many things were retracted by him at 
a later period ; e.g., the Platonic opinion, that the human 
soul has a consciousness of pre-existence ; and that the 
learning of a science is a restoration of it to memory, a 
disinterment, so to speak, of knowledge already existing, 
but covered over in the mind. As he had yet many 
steps to take theoretically, before reaching the depth and 
clearness of Christian knowledge which distinguish his 
later writings, so he had yet many practically also, al- 
though not attended by such violent internal struggles, 
before the new life obtained the full mastery within. 
After his conversion, he did indeed abandon unlawful 
sexual intercourse. But now, the pictures of his former 
sensual indulgence not seldom troubled his fancy in 
dreams. This he justly regarded as sin, and reproached 
himself bitterly. " Am I," he cried out, " am I then 
not dreaming what I am, Lord, my God ? Is not thy 
mighty hand, able to purge all the weaknesses of my soul, 
and frighten away with more abundant grace the concu- 
piscence of my dreams ? Yea, Thou wilt grant unto me 
more and more thy gifts, that my soul may follow Thee, 
and be with Thee even in dreams full of purity, Thou 
who art able to do more than we can ask or understand." 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 61 

In the beginning of the year 387 he returned to Milan, 
and along with his preparation for baptism kept up his 
literary activity. He wished to portray the different 
steps of human knowledge by which he himself had 
been gradually led to absolute knowledge, for the pur- 
pose of leading others to the sanctuary ; and wrote works 
on grammar, logic, rhetoric, geometry, arithmetic, phi- 
losophy, music, and on the immortality of the soul, of 
which only the last two were completed, and have come 
down to us.* 

Meanwhile, the wished-for hour of baptism arrived. 
On Easter Sabbath of this year he received, at the hands 
of the venerable Ambrose, this holy sacrament, in com- 
pany with his friend Alypius, and his son Adeodatus, 
who was now fifteen years of age, and, preserved from 
the evil courses of his father, had surrendered to the 
Lord his youthful soul with all its rare endowments. 
This solemn act, and the succeeding festivals of Easter 
and Whitsuntide, in which the Church entered her spi- 
ritual spring, and basked in the warm sunlight of a 
Saviour risen from the dead and eternally present by his 
Spirit, made the deepest impression upon Augustine. 
The solemnity of this festival was still further heightened 
by two circumstances mentioned by him. The long- 
concealed relics of the martyrs, Protasius and Gervasius, 

* The book on grammar, and the principles of logic and rhetoric, 
in the first volume of the Benedictine edition of Augustine's works, 
is spurious, because it lacks the form of dialogue, and the higher 
bearing which he gave to his writings on these subjects. 



62 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

discovered a short time before, were then conveyed into 
the Ambrosian Basilika, and wrought there an astonishing 
miracle in support of Nicene orthodoxy against the Arian 
heresy ; and just then also Ambrose had transplanted 
the Church-hymns of the East into his diocese, and had 
added to them productions of his own, conceived and 
executed in truly liturgical style, which reminds one of 
the simple grandeur and devotional sublimity of the 
Psalms* 

" I could not," says Augustine, " satisfy myself in 
those days with the wonderful delight of meditating on 
the depth of thy Divine counsel in the salvation of the 
human race. How have I wept amid thy hymns and 
chants, powerfully moved by the sweetly-sounding voice 
of thy Church ! Those tones poured into my ear ; the 
truth dropped into my heart, and kindled there the fire 
of devotion ; tears ran down my cheeks in the fulness of 
my joy!" 

* Conf. ix. 7. As is well known, Ambrose gets generally the 
credit as the author of the magnificent anthem, Te Deum Laudamus, 
which is worthy of a place among David's Psalms of thanksgiving. 
A tradition, not well supported, and nowhere alluded to, as far as I 
know, by Augustine himself, says, that it was composed by Ambrose 
and Augustine jointly, during the baptism of the latter, as by inspi- 
ration from above, each singing in response verse after verse. Comp. 
Knapp's Evang. Liederschatz 1 2nd edit., p. 1303, sub " Ambrosius." 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 63 



CHAPTER VIII. 

HOMEWARD JOURNEY TO AFRICA. — MONICA'S DEATH. 

Soon after his baptism, in the summer of the year 387, 
Augustine entered on his homeward journey to Africa, 
in company with his relatives and friends, in order to 
continue there the life of Divine contemplation already 
begun in Cassiciacum. Among them was Evadius of 
Tagestum, a cultivated man, who was baptized a short 
time before, and now forsook the service of the emperor 
to live in like manner, exclusively, for the higher world. 
Already had they reached Ostia, at the mouth of the 
Tiber, about a day's journey from Rome, — already had 
they made the necessary preparations for embarking, — 
when the sudden death of Monica frustrated the plan. 
The faithful soul had now experienced the highest joy 
for which she had wished to live : she had seen the 
Saviour in the heart of her son, and could, like Hannah 
and Simeon of old, depart in peace to that true home, 
which is more beautiful, and sweeter far than Africa. 

One day Augustine sat with his mother at a garden- 
window in Ostia, and conversed with her about the rest 
of eternity and its holy pleasures, which no eye has seen 
and no ear heard, but which God has prepared for them 
that love Him. Let us listen to his own narrative. "For- 



64 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

getting the past, and looking only toward the future, we 
asked ourselves, in the presence of the Truth, as Thou 
art, what the eternal life of the saints will be. And we 
opened longingly the mouths of our hearts to receive the 
celestial overflowings of thy fountain — the fountain of 
life that is with Thee, that, being bedewed from it 
according to our capacity, we might meditate carefully 
upon this solemn subject. When now our discourse had 
reached that point, that no pleasure of corporeal sense, 
regarded in what brilliant light soever, durst for a mo- 
ment be named with the glory of that life, much less 
compared with it, we mounted upward in ardent long- 
ings, and wandered step by step through all the material 
universe, the heavens, from which sun, moon, and stars, 
beam down upon the earth. And we rose yet higher in 
inward thought, discourse, and admiration, of thy won- 
derful works ; and, going in spirit, we rose above these 
also, in order to reach yon sphere of inexhaustible fulness, 
where Thou dost feed Israel to all eternity upon the pas- 
tures of Truth, where Life is and Truth, by which all 
was made that was there and will be : but it itself was 
not made ; it is as it was and always will be ; for to have 
been and to be are not in it, but being because it is eternal : 
for to have been and to be are not eternal. Whilst we 
were thus talking and desiring, we touched it gently in 
full rapture of heart, and left bound there the first-fruits 
of the Spirit, and turned again to the sound of our lips, 
where the word begins and ends. And what is like thy 
Word, our Lord, who remains unchanged in Himself, 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 65 

and renews all ? We spake thus : * If the tumult of the 
flesh were silent, and the images of earth, sea, and air 
were silent, and the poles were silent, and the soul itself 
were silent, transcending its own thoughts ; if dreams 
and the revelations of fancy, and every language, and 
every sign, and every thing represented by them were 
silent ; if all were silent, for to him who hears, all these 
say, We have not made ourselves, but He who made us 
dwells in eternity ; if, at this call, they were now silent, 
with ear uplifted to their Creator, and He should speak 
alone, not by them, but unmediated so that we heard his 
own word, not through a tongue of flesh, not through the 
voice of an angel, not through the war of thunder, not 
through the dark outlines of a similitude, but from Him 
Himself whom we love in them, and whom without them 
we heard as we now mounted, and with the rapid flight 
of thought touched, the eternal Truth that lies beyond 
them all ; if this contemplation should continue, and no 
other foreign visions mingle with it, and if this alone 
should take hold of, and absorb, and wrap up its be^ 
holder in more inward joys, and such a life as that of 
which, now recovering our breath, we have had a mo- 
mentary taste, were to last for ever ; — would not then the 
saying, Enter into the joy of your Lord, be fulfilled? ' " 
In the presentiment that she would soon enter into the 
joy of her Lord, Monica, struck by the inspired words of 
her son, said, " Son, what has befallen me ? Nothing 
has any more charms for me in this life. What I am yet 
to do here, and why I am here, I do not know, every 



66 THE LIFE AND LABOUES OF 

hope of this world being now consumed. Once there 
was a reason why I should wish to live long, that I 
might see you a believing Christian* before I should 
die. God has now richly granted me this beyond mea- 
sure, in permitting me to see you in his service, having 
totally abandoned the world. What yet have I to do 
here?" 

Five or six days after this conversation and foretaste 
of the eternal Sabbath-rest of the saints, the pious mother 
was attacked by a fever, which in a short time exhausted 
her vital powers. Her two sons were continually at her 
bed-side. Augustine was now indeed more than ever 
bowed down with regret that he had caused her so many 
tears and pains, and sought by the last tender offices of 
love to make as much amends as possible. Monica read 
his heart, and assured him with tenderest affection that he 
had never spoken an unkind word to her. Before, it had 
always been her wish to die at home, and rest beside the 
grave of her husband. But now this natural wish was 
merged into loftier resignation to the will of God. " Bury 
my body somewhere here," said she, " and do not con- 
cern yourselves on its account ; only this I beg of you, 
that you will be mindful of me at the altar of God, where 
you will be." f 

* Or, more strictly after the original, Conf. ix. 10, Christianwm 
Catholicum, in distinction not merely from a Paganus, but also and 
particularly from a Christianus haereticus and schismaticus, which 
Augustine had formerly been. 

f Conf. ix. 11. Tantum illud vos rogo, ut ad Domini altare me- 
mineritis mei, ubi fueritis. This thanksgiving and prayers for the 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 67 

To the question, whether it would not be terrible to 
her to be buried so far from her fatherland, she replied, 
*' Nothing is far from God ; and there is no fear that He 
will not know, at the end of time, where to raise me up." 
Thus, in the fifty-sixth year of her age, on the ninth day 
of her sickness, this noble-hearted woman expired in the 
arms of her son, at the mouth of the Tiber, on the shore 
of the Mediterranean Sea, which separated Italy from her 
earthly home. Yet long after her death has she consoled 
and comforted thousands of anxious mothers, and encou- 
raged them in patient waiting and perseverance in prayer. 
Her memory remains for ever dear and blessed to the 
Church. Adeodatus cried aloud : Augustine himself 
could scarcely restrain by force the gush of tears, and 
quiet the overpowering feelings of grief which were rush- 
ing into his heart. He believed it was not becoming " to 
honour such a corpse with the tearful wailings and groans 
which are usually given to those who die a miserable, 
yea, an eternal, death." For his mother had not, died 
miserably ; she had merely entered into the joy of her 
Lord. When the weeping had subsided, Evodius took 
up the Psalter : "I will sing of mercy and judgment ; 
unto Thee, Lord, will I sing" (Ps. 101. 1) ; and the 
whole house joined in the response. After the corpse 
had been buried, and the Holy Supper celebrated on the 
grave, according to the custom of the age, in the con- 
sciousness of a communion of saints uninterrupted by 

dead are likewise a decided Catholic feature, which can be traced, in 
its innocent form, as far back as the second century. 



68 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OP 

death, and Augustine found himself at home, alone with 
his God, then he gave his tears free vent, .and wept 
sorely and long over her who had shed before God so 
many tears of maternal love and solicitude on his account. 
But he begs his readers to fulfil the last wish of his 
mother, and remember her at the altar of the Lord with 
thanksgiving and prayer. " In this transitory light let 
them remember my parents with pious affection, and my 
brothers, who, under Thee, the Father, are children in 
the mother, the Catholic Church, and my fellow-citizens 
in the heavenly Jerusalem, after which thy people sigh 
from the beginning to the end of their pilgrimage, so 
that what she asked of me in her last moments may be 
more abundantly fulfilled to her by the prayers and con- 
fessions of many, than by my prayers alone." * 

These words form the conclusion of the historical part 
of the " Confessions," in which Augustine, with the 
rarest candour, and in a spirit of the severest self-criticism 
and unfeigned humility, in presence of the whole world, 
acknowledges to God his sins and errors, and praises 
with devout gratitude the wonderful hand, which, even 
in his widest wanderings, guided him, took hold of him 
in the anxiety and prayers of his mother, in the better inr 
clinations of his heart, in his internal conflicts, his in- 
creasing discontent, and his pining after God, and led 
him at last, after many storms, into the haven of faith 
and peace. In this, the most interesting and edifying 
autobiography ever written, we behold the great church- 
* Conf. ix. 13, conclusion. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 69 

doctor of all ages " lying in the dust of humility in con- 
verse with God, and basking in the sunlight of his love, 
-r— his readers only sweeping before him like shadows." 
He takes all his glory, all his greatness, all his culture, 
and lays them devoutly at the feet of free grace. His 
deepest feeling is, " All that is good in me is thy ordering 
and thy gift ; all that is evil is my guilt and my judg- 
ment." No motive, drawn from anything without, 
prompted him to this public confession. It sprang from 
the innermost impulse of his soul. " I believe," says he, 
" and therefore I speak, as Thou, Lord, knowest. Have 
I not confessed my guilt before Thee, and hast Thou not 
forgiven the sins of my soul? Never will I excuse or 
justify myself before Thee, who art truth itself; no, I 
will not justify myself before Thee, for if Thou art strict 
to mark iniquity, who can stand?" Most touching is his 
sad complaint that he was converted to the Lord so late 
in life, since one single hour of communion with Him is 
worth more than all the joys of the world besides. " I 
have loved Thee late, whose beauty is as old as eternity, 
and yet so new. I have loved Thee late, and, lo ! Thou 
wert within, but I was without, and sought Thee there. 
And amid thy beautiful creation I covered myself with 
loathsomeness, for Thou wert with me, and I not in 
Thee ! The external world held me far from Thee, 
though it were not, if it were not in Thee. Thou didst 
call loud and louder, and break through my deafness. 
Thou didst beam down bright and brighter, and overcame 
my blindness. Thou didst breathe, and I recovered 



70 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

breath and life again, and breathed in Thee. I would taste 
Thee, and hungered and thirsted. Thou didst touch me* 
and, burning, I longed after thy peace. If ever I may 
live in Thee, with all that is in me, then will pain and 
trouble leave me ; filled wholly with Thee, all within me 
will be life." 

Augustine wrote his " Confessions" about the year 400 y 
and even in his own time they were read by high and low 
with the greatest profit. Although not altogether suited 
for general use, because they contain much that can only 
be rightly understood and prized by the theologian and 
the student of history, yet we know, next to the Holy 
Scriptures, no better book for edification in all that be- 
longs to elevation, depth, and unction, than Augustine's 
" Confessions," not even excepting the " Imitation of 
Christ," by Thomas a Kempis, and Arndt's " True 
Christianity." 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 71 






CHAPTER IX. 

SHORT STAY IN ROME. — WRITINGS AGAINST THE 
MANICHAEANS. — RESIDENCE AT TAGESTUM. — AP- 
POINTMENT AS PRIEST AND BISHOP. 

In consequence of the death of his mother, Augustine 
changed his plan of travel, and went first of all with his 
company to Rome, where he remained for ten months. 
During this time he attacked his former friends, the 
Manichaeans, publicly. He was better fitted than any; 
one of his contemporaries for confuting their errors. " I 
could not," says he, in his "Retractations," "bear in 
silence, that the Manichaeans should delude the ignorant 
through boasting by their false deceptive abstemiousness: 
and moderation, and elevate themselves even above true 
Christians, with whom they are not worthy to be com- 
pared ; and so I wrote two books, the one on ' The 
Morals of the Catholic Church,' the other on ' The Morals 
of the Manichaeans.' " 

Toward autumn of the year 388, he sailed to Africa, 
and, after a transient stay in Carthage with his friend 
Innocentius, a godly man, who had just then been 
delivered from a dangerous sickness by prayer, he pro- 
ceeded to a country-seat, near Tagestum, which, along 



7-2 THE LIFE AND LABOUES OF 

with other real estate, lie had inherited from his father. 
In literal obedience to the command of Christ to the rich 
young man (Matt. 19. 21), and in imitation of the example 
of many saints of previous ages, he sold his possessions and 
gave the proceeds to the poor, retaining, as it appears, his 
dwelling, and the necessary means of subsistence. Here 
he lived with his friends three years in a complete com- 
munity of goods, retired from the world, in prayer, study, 
and earnest meditation, except that he was frequently in- 
terrupted by the inhabitants of the city asking counsel 
about their spiritual and temporal aiFairs. Numerous 
philosophical, polemical, and theological writings are the 
fruits of this sojourn in the country. 

In the year 391 he was called by an imperial commis- 
sioner to the Numidian sea-port, Hippo Kegius, the Bona 
of our time.* Having arrived there, he was forced into 
public office against his will. For, on one occasion, as 
he was listening to a sermon of the bishop, Valerius, a 
native of Greece, and the latter remarked that the congre- 
gation needed a priest, the people cried out for Augustine. 
He was amazed, and burst into tears, for he did not wish 
to give up his peaceful, ascetic, and literary retirement, 
and did not consider himself qualified for the responsible 
station. He followed, however, the guidance of that 
hand, which drew him, as it does all true reformers, into 
the arena of public life, against his own will. He only 
begged for some months to prepare for the new office, and 

* He is yet known among the natives of that place, as " the great 
Christian" (Kumi Kebir), 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 73 

assumed its duties on Easter of the year 392. In this 
position he was now to unfold, during a period of thirty- 
eight successive years, first as priest and then as bishop, 
the rich treasures of his genius for the benefit of the con- 
gregation and the whole Church, in his age, and all com- 
ing centuries. He was indispensable. Difficulties of deep 
and universal importance were arising, with which he 
alone was fitted to cope. 

His relation to the bishop was very pleasant. The 
latter acknowledged the decided intellectual superiority of 
Augustine, and, without envy, gave it free play for the 
good *of the Church. For example, he allowed him to 
preach frequently, contrary to the usual custom of the 
African bishops, who granted this privilege to the priests, 
only during their absence. Soon after, he made him an 
associate, with the consent of the Bishop of Carthage. 
But when Augustine learned the existence of a decree of 
the Council of Nice, forbidding two bishops in one con- 
gregation, he had a resolution passed by a Synod at 
Carthage, that, in order to prevent similar irregularities, 
the Church-canons should be read by every clergyman 
before ordination. 

- In the year 395, Valerius died, and Augustine was now 
sole Bishop of Hippo, and remained so till the day of his 
death. 



74 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 



CHAPTER X. 

Augustine's domestic life, and administration 
of his episcopal office. 

We will now first glance at Augustine's private life, then 
consider him as bishop, and lastly exhibit his public 
activity in the Church and the world of letters, and its 
influence upon succeeding generations. 

His mode of living was in the highest degree simple, 
and bore that ascetic character which accords rather with 
the genius of Catholicism than of Protestantism, but it 
was also free from those exaggerations and elements of 
Pharisaical self-righteousness, which connect themselves 
so readily with monastic piety. He dwelt with his 
clergy in one house, and strove with them to copy after 
the first community of Christians (Acts 4. 31). All 
things were common; no one had more than another; 
even he himself was never preferred. God and his 
Church were enough for them. Whoever would no$ 
consent to this, was not admitted into his clerical body. 
He also established a kind of theological seminary, where 
candidates could prepare themselves, in a practical as 
well as a theoretical manner, for their important duties, 
as preachers of reconciliation. They certainly could find 
no better instructor. Already as a priest he had attracted 
to Hippo his old friends, Alypius and Evodius, and 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 75 

several new ones, among whom were Possidius and Se- 
verus, for the prosecution of mutual studies; and these 
formed the beginning of that theological nursery, out of 
which about ten bishops and many inferior clergy went 
forth from time to time. He was extremely sparing in 
his diet, and lived mostly on herbs and pulse. After the 
custom of those countries, wine was placed before all, a 
certain measure to each, yet of course further indulgence 
was severely rebuked. Whilst they sat at table, a pass- 
age from some good book was read aloud, or they 
conversed freely together, but were never allowed to 
attack the character of any one who was absent. Augus- 
tine enforced the observance of this rule of brotherly 
love very strictly. His clothing and house-furniture were 
decent, without show or luxury. He was particularly 
prudent in regard to the female sex, for he permitted 
no woman, not even his nearest relative, to live in the 
episcopal house. Nor did he trust himself to enter 
into conversation with any, except in the presence of 
an ecclesiastic. Personally, he preferred, like St. Paul, 
the unmarried estate (1 Cor. 7. 1, 7, 8); but, unlike 
many of the church-fathers, he -honoured marriage, and 
warned against its abuse. 

As a bishop he was pre-eminently faithful and con- 
scientious in the discharge of his manifold duties. He 
felt deeply the solemn reponsibilities of the spiritual 
calling. " There is nothing," says he, " in this life, and 
especially in this age, more easy, more agreeable, and 
more acceptable to men, than the office of bishop, or, 



76 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

presbyter, or deacon, if its duties are performed at plea- 
sure, and in a time-serving spirit; but in the eyes of God, 
nothing more miserable, more sad, more damnable. 
Likewise, there is nothing in this life, and especially in 
this age, more difficult, more laborious, more dangerous, 
than the office of bishop, or presbyter, or deacon, but 
also none more blessed before God, if a man conducts 
himself therein as a true soldier under the banner of 
Christ." * To the ministry of the word he applied him- 
self diligently, preaching often five days in succession, and 
on some days twice. Whenever he found time, he pre- 
pared himself for it. When out of the fulness of inspira- 
tion he spoke from the holy place, he felt that human 
language was insufficient to express, in a fit and lively 
manner, the thoughts and feelings which streamed 
through his soul with the speed of lightning. He set 
before him as the aim of spiritual oratory to preach him- 
self and his hearers into Christ, so that all might live 
with him and he with all in Christ. This was his passion, 
his honour, his boast, his joy, his riches. 

He frequently spent whole days in bringing about a 

*Ep. 21. torn. 11, ed. Bened., words well worthy of being 
pondered on by every candidate of theology. " Nihil est in hac 
vita, et maxime hoc tempore, facilius, et laetius, et hominibus 
acceptabilius episcopi, aut presbyteri, aut diaconi officio, si perfunc- 
torie atque adulatorie res agatur ; sed nihil apud Deum miserius, et 
tristius, et damnabilius. Item nihil est in hac vita, et maxime in 
hoc tempore, difficilius, laboriosius, periculosius episcopi, aut pres- 
byteri, aut diaconi officio; sed apud Deum nihil beatius, si eo 
modo militetur, quo noster imperator jubet." 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 77 

reconciliation between parties who were at variance. It 
was irksome to a man of his contemplative disposition, 
but a sense of duty rendered him superior to the disagree- 
able nature of the occupation. Like Ambrose, he often 
interceded with the authorities in behalf of the unfortu- 
nate, and procured for them either justice or mercy. He 
took the poor under his special care, and looked upon 
each clergyman as their father. Once, when he observed 
that but little was cast into the collection-boxes, he con- 
cluded his sermon with the words: "I am a beggar for 
beggars, and take pleasure in being so, in order that you 
may be numbered among the children of God." Like 
Ambrose, he even melted up the vessels of the sanctuary, 
in extreme cases, for the relief of the suffering and the 
redemption of the prisoner. Unlike many bishops of his 
time, he does not appear to have set his heart upon the 
enrichment of the Church. He would accept no legacy, 
where injustice would be done to the natural heirs, for 
"the Church desires no unrighteous inheritance"; and 
he therefore praised Bishop Aurelius of Carthage in a 
sermon, because he had restored, without solicitation, his 
entire property to a man who had willed it to the Church, 
because his wife unexpectedly bore him children. Along 
with his seminary for the clergy, he also established 
religious societies for women. Over one of these, his 
sister, a godly widow, presided. On one occasion he 
assured his congregation that he could not easily find 
better, but had also nowhere found worse, people than in 
these cloisters. 



78 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OP 

But the activity of Augustine extended beyond the 
limits of his own congregation, and reached the entire 
African, yea, the entire Western, Church. He was the 
leading genius in the African Synods, which were held, 
toward the close of the fourth and the beginning of the 
fifth century, at Carthage, in 398, 403, 411, 413, 419, 
and in other places, particularly against the Donatists and 
Pelagians. He took the liveliest interest in all the ques- 
tions which were then agitated, and was unwearied in 
devoting his powers to the general good. The Catholic 
Church had at that time three great enemies, who threat- 
ened to deface and tear her in pieces at every point, and 
had even forced themselves into the congregation of Hippo. 
These were Manichaeism, Donatism, and Pelagianism, 
Augustine was their great opponent and final conqueror. 
The whole spiritual power of the Latin Church concen* 
trated itself, so to speak, in him, for the overthrow of these 
antagonists. He left no lawful means unemployed for 
the expulsion of the evil. But he principally fought 
with the weapon of mind, and wrote a large number of 
works, which, although designed specially for the necesn 
sities and circumstances of the time, yet contain a store 
of the profounded truths for all ages. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 79 



CHAPTEE XL 

THE LAST TEAKS OF AUGUSTINE'S LIFE.— 
HIS DEATH. 

In his latter years, Augustine cast one more glance be- 
hind upon his entire literary course, and in his " Ketrac- 
tations" subjected it to a severe criticism. His writings 
against the Semi- Pelagians, in which a milder and more 
gentle spirit reigns, belong to this period. Like Luther 
and Melancthon, he was inclined to melancholy with the 
failure of his bodily strength. This was increased by 
much bitter experience, and the heavy misfortunes which 
befell his fatherland. The Yandal king, Genseric, with 
50,000 warriors, among whom were Goths and Alani, in 
May of the year 428, crossed over from Spain to Africa, 
which was now filled with confusion and desolation. 
These barbarians raged more fiercely than wild beasts of 
prey, reduced towns and villages to ashes, spared no age 
or sex, were especially severe against the orthodox clergy, 
because they themselves were Arians, and changed that 
beautiful country into a desert. Augustine's opinion was, 
that the bishops at least should stand by their congre- 
gations in the hour of need; that the bonds, which the 
love of Christ had knit, should not be rent asunder; and 
that they should endure quietly whatever God might 



80 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

send. " Whoever flies," he wrote to Bishop Quodvultdeus, 
" so that the Church is not deprived of the necessary 
ministrations, he does what God commands or permits. 
But whoever so flies, that the flock of Christ is left with- 
out the nourishment by which it spiritually lives, he is an 
hireling, who, seeing the wolf come, flies, because he has 
no care for the sheep." 

Boniface, the commander-in-chief of the imperial forces 
in Africa, who was friendly to Augustine, though the 
occasion of much trouble to him, was beaten by the 
Yandals, and threw himself with the remnant of his army 
into the fortified city of Hippo, where Possidius and 
several bishops had taken refuge. Augustine was sorely 
oppressed by the calamities of his country, and the de- 
struction of Divine worship, which could now be cele- 
brated only in the strong-holds of Carthage, Cirta, and 
Hippo. At table, he once expressed himself to his friends 
in the following language: " What I pray God for is, that 
He will deliver this city from the enemy; or, if He 
has determined otherwise, that He may strengthen Ins 
servant for his sufferings ; or, which I would rather, that 
He would call me from this world to Himself." 

The last wish was granted him. In the third month of 
the siege he was attacked by a violent fever, and ten days 
before his death he withdrew into retirement, after having 
up till that time proclaimed the word of God to his con- 
gregation without interruption. He spent this season in 
reading the penitential Psalms, which were attached 
to the wall by his bed-side, in holy meditations, . tears,, 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 81 

prayers, and intercessions. He once said that no one, 
especially no minister of the Gospel, ought to depart this 
life without earnest repentance; and wrote concerning 
himself, " I will not cease to weep, until He comes, and 
I appear before Him ; and these tears are to me pleasant 
nutriment. The thirst which consumes me, and inces- 
santly draws me toward yon fountain of my life, this thirst 
is always more burning when I see my salvation delayed. 
This inextinguishable desire carries me away to those 
streams, as well amid the joys as amid the sorrows of 
this world. Yea, if I stand well with the world, I 
am wretched in myself, until I appear before God." 

On the 28th of August, 430, in the seventy-sixth year 
of his age, the great man peacefully departed into a bliss- 
ful eternity, in the full possession of his faculties, and in 
the presence of his friends. He left no will, for, having 
embraced voluntary poverty, he had nothing to dispose of, 
except his books and manuscripts, which he bequeathed 
to the Church* 

Soon after, Hippo was taken. Henceforth Africa was 
lost to the Eomans, and vanished from the arena of Church- 
history. The culminating point of the spiritual greatness 
of the African Church was also that of her ruin. But her 
ripest fruit, the spirit and the theology of Augustine, 
could not perish. It fell on the soil of Europe, where it 

* His friend and biographer, Possidius, says, Vit. Aug. c. 31 : 
Testamentum nullum fecit, quia unde faceret, pauper Dei non 
habuit. Ecclesiae bibliothecam omnesque codices diligenter posteris 
custodiendos semper jubebat. 



82 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

has produced new glorious flowers and fruits, and to this 
day exerts a blessed influence in the Catholic and Protes- 
tant Churches. 



CHAPTER XII. 
Augustine's writings. 

Augustine is the most fruitful author among the Latin 
church-fathers. His writings are almost too numerous. 
Possidius reckons them, including sermons and letters, at 
1030. He has here deposited his views in every depart- 
ment of theology, the rare treasures of his mind and heart, 
and a true expression of the deepest religious and ecclesi-. 
astical movements of his age, and at the same time secured 
an immeasurable influence upon all succeeding genera- 
tions. He wrote out of the abundance of his heart, not 
to acquire literary fame, but moved by the love of God and 
man. In point of learning he stands behind Origen and 
Jerome ; but in originality, depth, and fulness of soul and 
spirit, he surpasses all the Greek and Latin fathers. He 
has been blamed, and not unjustly, for verbosity and fre- 
quent repetitions; his style is sometimes very negligent, 
but with design, for he says, "I would rather be censured 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 83 

by the grammarians than not understood by the people " ; 
and yet he had the language wholly at command, and knew 
especially how to wield the antithetic power of the Latin 
in a masterly manner. His writings are full of the most 
ingenious puns, and rise not seldom to strains of true elo- 
quence and a rare poetic beauty. Since his productive 
period as an author extends over four decades of years, 
from his conversion till the evening of his life, and since 
he unfolded himself before the eyes of the public, contra- 
dictions on many minor points were unavoidable; where- 
fore, in old age, he subjected his literary career to an un- 
prejudiced revision in his " Ketractations," and, in a spirit 
of genuine Christian humility, recalled much that he had 
maintained before from honest conviction. 

His philosophical writings, which were composed soon 
after his conversion, and which are yet full of Platonism, 
we have already mentioned. His theological works may 
be divided into five classes. 

1. The Exegetical. Here we may name his expositions 
of the Sermon on the Mount (393), of the Epistle to the 
Romans (394), of the Psalms (415), of John (416,) and 
his " Harmony of the Gospels " (400). His strength lies 
not by any means in thorough knowledge of the original 
languages, and historical and grammatical exegesis, in 
which he was excelled by Jerome among the Latins, and 
Chrysostom, Theodoret, and Theophylact, among the 
Greeks, but in the development of theological and reli- 
gious thoughts. He shows here an uncommon acquaint- 
ance and the most inward sympathy with the Holy 



84 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

Scriptures, and often penetrates their deepest meaning 
with independent spirit. He is almost always ingenious 
and edifying, even where he evidently misses the natural 
meaning, and loses himself in allegorical fancies. As is 
well known, he exercised also a considerable influence on 
the final settlement of the canon of Holy Scripture, whose 
limit was so firmly fixed at the Synods of Hippo, in the 
year 393. and of Carthage, in 397, that even now it is 
universally received in the Catholic and Evangelical 
Churches, with the exception of the difference of the two 
confessions in regard to the value of the Old Testament 
Apocrypha. 

2. The Apologetical. To these belong pre-eminently 
his twenty-two books on the City of God (De Civitate 
Dei), begun in 413, and finished in 426, in the seventy- 
second year of his life. They form a most noble and 
genial defence of Christianity and the Church, in the 
face of the approaching downfal of the old Eoman em- 
pire and classic civilisation, in the face of the irruption 
of the wild, northern barbarians into Southern Europe 
and Africa, and in view of the innumerable misfortunes 
and calamities by which the human race was scourged 
during that transition-period, and which were attributed 
by the heathen to the decay of the ancient faith in the 
gods, and laid to the charge of Christianity. Here 
Augustine shows that all these events are the result of a 
process of internal purification long since begun, a judg- 
ment to the heathen and a powerful call on them to 
awake and repent, and at the same time a healthful trial 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 85 

to Christians, and the birth-throes of a new spiritual crea- 
tion. Then he turns from the view of a perishing, natural 
world, and her representative, the city of Eome, con- 
quered and laid waste by Alaric, the King of the Goths, 
in the year 410, to the contemplation of a higher, 
supernatural world, to the " City of God," founded by 
Christ upon a rock, and shows that this can never be 
destroyed, but, out of all the changes and revolutions of 
time, must rise, phoenix-like, with new power and energy, 
and, after the fulfilment of her earthly mission, shall be 
separated even from external communion with the wicked 
world, and enter into the Sabbath of eternal rest and 
spiritual repose. 

3. The Dogmatical and Polemical. These are the 
most numerous and important; for our church-father 
was peculiarly endowed as a speculative theologian and 
an acute controversialist. Among his dogmatic works, 
we mention the fifteen books on the Holy Trinity 
(against the Arians), the hand-book (Enchiridion) on 
Faith, Hope, and Love, and the four books on Christian 
Doctrine (De Doctrina Christiana, a hermeneutic dogma- 
tic compendium for religious teachers, and instruction in 
the development of Christian doctrine, from the Holy 
Scripture and its clear exposition). His most important 
polemic and dogmatic books and treatises may again be 
divided into three classes. 

a) Anti-Manichaean writings: " On the Morals of the 
Manichaeans," " On the Morals of the Catholic Church," 
" On Free Will," " On the Two Souls," " Against 



86 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

Faustus," and others. They are the chief sources of our 
knowledge of the Manichaean errors and their refutation. 

b) Anti-Donatistic writings: "On Baptism, against 
the Donatists," " Against the Epistle of Parmenianus," 
" Against Petilianus," " Extract from the Transactions 
of the Keligious Conference with the Donatists," and 
others. They are the chief sources of our knowledge of 
the remarkable Donatistic Church-schism in Africa, 
which, begun long before Augustine's time, was over- 
come principally by his intellectual ability.* They treat 
chiefly of the essence and the attributes of the Church, 
and her relation to the world, of the evil of schism and 
separation. In general their ruling tendency is exclu- 
sively churchly, and wholly an ti- Protestant ; for the 
development of the Catholic idea of the Church, her 
unity and universality, begun already by Ignatius and 
Irenaeus, and carried on by Cyprian, they bring to a final 
completion. 

c) Anti-Pelagian writings of the years 411-420, to 
which are to be added the anti- Semi- Pelagian writings of 
the last years of his life. We mention here the books 
" On Nature and Grace," "On Merit and Forgiveness," 

* Unfortunately, he approved also of violent measures of state for 
the suppression of the separatistic movement, and thus, to a certain 
extent, paved the way for those cruel persecutions of heretics which 
deform so many pages of later Church-history, from which it is 
certain his own Christian feelings, if he could have foreseen them, 
would have shrunk back in horror. Thus great and good men, 
even, without intending it, have, through mistaken zeal, occasioned 
much mischief. 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 87 

u 0n Grace and Free Will," "On the Spirit and the 
Letter," " On Original Sin," " On the Predestination of 
the Saints," " On the Gift of Perseverance " (De Dono 
Perseverantiae), "Against Pelagius and Caelestius," 
" Against Julian " (a bishop of Eclanum in Apulia in- 
fected with Pelagianism). In these treatises, Augustine 
developes his profound doctrines of original sin and guilt, 
the loss of spiritual freedom, the natural inability of man 
for good, of the grace and merit of Christ, of faith, of 
election, and perseverance to the end, in opposition to 
the shallow and superficial errors of the contemporaneous 
monks, Pelagius and Caelestius, who denied natural de-. 
pravity, and just so far overthrew the existence of Divine 
grace in Christ. They belong to his most meritorious 
labours, and are decidedly evangelical, and have therefore 
exerted a greater influence on the Reformers of the six- 
teenth century, especially on Luther, Melancthon, and 
Calvin, than any of his own, or of all other human pro- 
ductions, besides * 

4. The Ascetic and Edifying. Among these we num- 
ber the " Soliloquies," " Meditations," " On the Chris- 
tian Conflict," " On the Excellence of Marriage," and a 
great mass of sermons and homilies, part of which were 
written out by himself, and part taken down by his 
hearers. Of these there are about 400 ; but very recently, 

* I furnished a detailed representation of the Pelagian contro- 
versy, and Augustine's views in connection with it, for the Biblio- 
theca Sacra and Theological Review of Andover, for the year 1848, 
vol. v. p. 205 — 243. 



88 THE LIFE AND LABOUKS OF 

that indefatigable editor of unpublished manuscripts, 
Cardinal Angelo Mai, has given to the press several 
more, lately discovered among the treasures of the Va- 
tican Library. 

5. Auto-biographical, or writings which concern his 
own life and personal relations. Here belong the invalu- 
able " Confessions,'' already known to us, his exhibition 
of himself in the beginning, and the " Ketractations," his 
revision and self-correcting retrospect at the close, of his 
splendid career in the Church and the fields of literature ; 
lastly, a collection of 270 letters, in which he exhibits a 
true picture of nis external and internal life. " Here 
may be seen what labours he undertook for the honour of 
God and the salvation of his brethren ; how, like St. Paul, 
he was careful to become all things to all men. One can 
almost believe he sees the hen, of which the Gospel 
speaks, as she gathers her chickens under her wings." 




ST. AUGUSTINE. 89 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE SIGNIFICANCE AND INFLUENCE OF AUGUSTINE 
ON HIS OWN AND SUCCEEDING GENERATIONS. 

From this comprehensive mass of writings it is easy to 
determine the significance and influence of Augustine. 
In the sphere of theology, as well as in all other depart- 
ments of literature, it is not the quantity but the quality 
of the intellectual product which renders it most effective. 
The Apostles have written but little, and yet the Gospel 
of St. John, for example, or the Epistle to the Eomans, 
exert more influence than whole libraries of excellent 
books, yea, than the literatures of whole nations. Ter- 
tullian's " Apologeticus" Cyprian's short treatise " On the 
Unity of the Church," Anselm's " Cur Deus Homo" 
and " Monologium" Bernhardt tracts on " Despising the 
World," and " On the Love of God," the anonymous little 
book of " German Theology, " and similar productions, 
which may be contained on a couple of sheets, have moved 
and given powerful impulse to more minds than the nu- 
merous abstruse folio volumes of many scholastics of the 
Middle Ages, and old Protestant times. Augustine's 
" Confessions," the simple little book of the humble, 
secluded monk, Thomas a Kempis, " On the Imitation of 
Christ," Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress," Arndt's " True 
Christianity," and Gerhart's "Hymns on the Passion," 



90 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OP 

have each converted, edified, strengthened, and consoled, 
more persons than whole ship-loads of indifferent religious 
books and commentaries. 

But Augustine was very far from being a windy bab- 
bler and a mechanical book-manufacturer. The great 
mass of his writings, with all the faults and repetitions of 
isolated parts, are a spontaneous out-flow from the mar- 
vellous treasures of his active and highly-gifted mind, and 
his truly pious heart. Although master of one of the 
smaller bishoprics, he was yet in fact the head and 
leading spirit of the African Church, around whom 
Aurelius of Carthage, the primate of Africa, Evodius 
of Uzala, Fortunatus of Cirta, Possidius of Calama, Aly- 
pius of Tagestum, and many other bishops, willingly and 
gladly ranged themselves. Yea, in him the whole Wes- 
tern Church of Antiquity reached its highest spiritual 
vigour and bloom. His appearance in the history of dog- 
mas forms a distinct epoch, especially as it regards 
anthropological and soteriological doctrines, which he ad- 
vanced considerably further, and brought to a greater 
clearness and precision, than they had ever had before, in 
the consciousness of the Church. - For this was needed 
such rare union of the speculative talent of the Greek, 
and of the practical spirit of the Latin, Church, as he 
alone possessed. As in the doctrines of sin and grace, of 
the fall of Adam and the redemption of Christ, the two 
cardinal points of practical Christianity, he went far 
beyond the theology of the Oriental Church, which de- 
voted its chief energies to the development of the dogmas 



i, 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 91 

of the Holy Trinity and the person of Christ, so at the 
same time he opened up new paths for the progress of 
Western theology. 

Not only over his own age, but over all succeeding 
generations also, he has exercised an immeasurable in- 
fluence, and does still, as far as the Christian Church and 
theological science reach, with the exception, perhaps, of 
the Greek Church, which has grown stiff on the stand- 
point of antiquity, and for a while, at least, seems shut 
up against every theological movement. It may be 
doubted if ever any uninspired theologian has had and 
still has so large a number of admirers and disciples as 
the Bishop of Hippo. Whilst most of the great men in 
the history of the Church are claimed either by the 
Catholic or the Protestant Confession, and their influence 
is therefore confined to one or the other, our church- 
father enjoys from both a respect equally profound. 

On the one hand, he is among the chief creators of the 
Catholic theology. Through the whole of the Middle 
Ages, from Gregory the Great down to the Fathers of 
Trent, he was the highest theological authority; and 
Thomas Aquinas alone could, in a later era, contest this 
rank with him. By his fondness for deeper speculation 
and more rational comprehension and defence of the 
doctrines of Scripture and the Church, as well as by his 
dialectic subtlety, he became the father of Mediaeval 
Scholasticism; and, at the same time, by his mystic 
fervour, and spirit glowing with love, the author of 
Mediaeval Mysticism. Thence we find that the most 



92 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

distinguished representatives of orthodox Scholasticism, 
as Anselm, Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, and the 
representatives of Mysticism, as Bernhard of Clairvaux, 
Hugo of St. Victor, and Tauler, have collectively appealed 
to his authority, been nourished on his writings, and 
saturated with his spirit. But at this day, after the Ca- 
tholic Church has in the Council of Trent declared her- 
self exclusively Eomish, as opposed to Evangelical, and 
condemned as heresies many of the doctrines of Augus- 
tine, especially that of predestination, not, it is true, 
under his own, but under other names, as Protestant and 
Jansenist, and for the most part in exaggerated and 
excrescent forms, yet she always counts him among her 
greatest saints and most illustrious church-doctors. And 
although Jesuitism, according to its ruling tendency, is 
anti-Augustinian, because anti-Evangelical and practically 
Pelagian, since it lays such stress on external human 
action and blind legal obedience, yet because Catholicism, 
as a Church, can never surrender her boasted infallibility, 
and, as a consequence flowing from it, reverence for her 
canonised teachers, she will not be able to prevent his 
writings from exercising a powerful influence over her 
theologians, and producing from time to time movements 
like that of Jansenism in the seventeenth century. 

But, on the other hand, this same Augustine has also 
an Evangelical-Protestant significance. Next to the 
Apostle Paul, he was the chief teacher of the whole body 
of the Eeformers of the sixteenth century ; and his exege- 
tical and anti- Pelagian writings were the main sources 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 93 

from which they derived their views on the deep depra- 
vity of human nature, and the excellence of the forgiving, 
regenerating, and sanctifying grace of God in Christ, and 
opposed the dead formalism, self-righteous Pelagianism, 
and spiritless mechanism, of the prevailing scholastic 
theology and monkish piety. As is well known, they 
followed him, at least in the beginning, even to the dizzy 
abyss of the doctrine of Predestination, which Luther, in 
his work, " De Servo Arbitrio," Melancthon, in his " Com- 
mentary on the Komans," and still more Calvin, pushed 
into the terrible logical consequences of supralapsarianism, 
in order to root out Pelagianism and semi- Pelagianism, 
and with them all human boasting. Of Augustine they 
always speak with high esteem and love, which is the 
more remarkable, because they are otherwise very free, 
not only with the schoolmen, but with the church-fathers 
themselves, and sometimes, even, in the passionate heat 
of their opposition to slavish reverence, treat them with 
great neglect, and unjust depreciation of their merits.* 

*In this, as everywhere, Luther is especially plain, bold, and 
characteristic. His contempt for Scholasticism, which he derives 
from " the accursed heathen, Aristotle," is well known. Even 
Thomas Aquinas, for whom the Lutheran theologians of the seven- 
teenth century had great respect, he once calls " the dregs of all 
heresies, error, and destruction of the Gospel." Neither did he 
spare the church-fathers, and appears, more than the other Refor- 
mers, to have been conscious of the difference between Protestant 
and Patristic theology. " All the fathers," he once says with reck- 
less boldness, "have erred in faith, and, if not converted before 
death, are eternally damned." " *S^- Gregory is the useless fountain- 
head and author of the fables of purgatory and masses for souls. 



94 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 






With good reason Bohringer remarks: " Luther cannot 
be understood without Augustine, nor the Eeformation 
without Augustinianism. The most important contents 

He was very ill acquainted with Christ and his Gospel; — he is 
entirely too superstitious ; the devil has corrupted him." On 
Jerome, whose " Vulgata" was yet absolutely indispensable in his 
translation of the Bible into German, and rendered him the most 
valuable service, he was particularly severe, on account of his monas- 
tic tendencies, and exaggerated estimation of human works. He 
calls him a "heretic, who has written much profanity. He has 
deserved hell more than heaven. I know no one of the fathers to 
whom I am so hostile as to him. He writes only about fasting, 
virginity, and such .things." For the same reason he condemns St. 
Basil, one of the chief promoters of Monachism : " He is good for 
nothing; is only a monk; I would not give a straw for him." Of 
Chrysostom, the greatest expounder of the Scriptures and pulpit- 
orator of the Greek Church, but of whom certainly he had only the 
most superficial knowledge, he says, " He is worth nothing to me; 
he is a babbler, wrote many books which make a great show, but 
are only huge, wild, tangled heaps, and crowds, and bags full of 
words, for there is nothing in them, and little wool sticks." !Now- 
a-days, not a solitary Lutheran theologian of any learning will agree 
with him in this view. The Reformer was at times dissatisfied with 
Augustine himself, because, amid all his congeniality of mind, he 
could not just find in him his " sola fide:" "Augustine has often 
erred : he is not to be trusted. Although good and holy, he was yet 
lacking in true faith, as well as the other fathers." But over against 
this casual expression stand a number of eulogies on Augustine. 
Luther's words especially must not be weighed too nicely, else any 
and every thing can be proven by him, and the most irreconcilable 
contradictions shown in his writings. We must always judge him 
according to the moment in which, and that against which, he spoke, 
and duly remember also his bluntness and his stormy, warlike na- 
ture. Thus, the above disparaging sentences upon some of the 
greatest and most meritorious theologians of all ages, will be partly 
annulled by Luther's otherwise evident churchly and historical 
feeling, and by many expressions like that in a latter to Albert of 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 95 

of Augustinianism are, we think anthropological (grace 
and freedom); and these contents, comprehended not in its 
external authority, but in its innermost substance, are 
first fairly brought to life and light in the Reformation, 
and develope and complete themselves in the Evangelical 
Church." And, therefore, since the Eeformation, our 
church-father has been praised and honoured among all 
believing evangelical theologians as one of the brightest 
lights and most beautiful ornaments of the Church of 
Christ. Protestantism cannot justly be reproached with 
defect in its estimation of true tradition and church-anti- 
quity, as long as it proves its Christian feeling and good 
taste, by prizing, above all others, those of the fathers and 

Prussia (a. d. 1532), where he declares the importance of tradition 
in matters of faith, as strongly even as any Catholic. 

In reference to the real presence of Christ in the Lord's Supper, 
he says : " Moreover, this article has been unanimously believed and 
held from the beginning of the Christian Church to the present 
hour, as may be shown from the books and writings of the dear 
fathers, both in the Greek and Latin languages, — which testimony 
of the entire holy Christian Church ought to be sufficient for us, 
even if we had nothing more. For it is dangerous and dreadful to 
hear or believe anything against the unanimous testimony, faith, and 
doctrine of the entire holy Christian Church, as it has been held 
unanimously in all the world up to this year 1500. Whoever now 
doubts of this, he does just as much as though he believed in no 
Christian Church, and condemns not only the entire holy Christian 
Church as a damnable heresy, but Christ Himself, and all the 
Apostles and Prophets, who founded this article, when we say, ' I 
believe in a holy Christian Church,' to which Christ bears powerful 
testimony in Matt. 28. 20 : ' Lo, I am with you alway, to the end of 
the world,' and Paul in 1 Tim. 3. 15 ; « The Church is the pillar 
and ground of the truth.' " 



96. THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF 

later Catholic divines who are the most profound and 
pious, as, for example, an Augustine, an Athanasius, a 
Chrysostom, an Anselm, and a Bemhard. It may be able, 
from the higher and freer stand-point which it occupies, 
not only to understand itself, but also the steps which 
have led to it, and estimate impartially the great lights of 
Catholicism,* whilst the latter has not yet learned to do 
justice to the Eeformers and their successors. There are 
two Protestant theologians, whom, with genuine admira- 
tion and warm enthusiasm, we have to thank for the 
latest and most complete treatises on the life and doctrine 
of the great African church-father, namely, Frederick 
Bohringer, reformed preacher in the canton of Zurich,f 
and Charles Bindemann, professor of evangelical theology 
in the university at Greifswald. f 

* This is true at least of the late evangelical theology of Germany, 
which, in a truly liberal and Catholic spirit, investigates Church- 
history in all its departments, and has reproduced, from the sources, 
monographs of the most important church-fathers. 

f Die Kirche Christi und Hire Zeugen oder die KircJiengeschichte 
in Biographien, Band 1, Abth. 3, S. 99-774. Zurich, 1845. 

% Der lieilige Augustinus, Erster Band, Berlin, 1844. This 
volume, dedicated to the sainted Neander, only comes down to the 
baptism of the church-father ; and the continuation of this very 
thorough work, which must comprise at least three volumes, has 
not yet appeared. In an excellent manner, and wholly agreeing 
with what we have before said in detail, Bindemann, in his preface, 
sketches the significance of his hero in the following words : " St. 
Augustine is one of the most extraordinary lights in the Church. 
In importance, he takes rank behind no teacher who has laboured in 
her since the days of the Apostles. It may well be said that the 
first place among the church-fathers is due to him ; and at the time 
of the Reformation, only a Luther, by reason of the fulness and 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 97 

If it be the task of the present and future age to re- 
produce, in a free spirit, the ecclesiastical past, and to 
combine its conflicting tendencies into a higher unity, we 
may fairly suppose that the deep and comprehensive mind 
of Augustine (in whom the Reformation, the Middle 
Ages, and Antiquity, have taken an equal interest, and 
from whom they have received the same powerful im- 
pulse, although in different directions) has not yet com- 
pleted its great and noble mission. Such a genius, which 
embraces, as it were, the three grand phases of the histo- 
rical development of the Church, and which is still held 
in equal esteem by the Catholic and Evangelical confes- 
sion, appears to us a welcome witness and guarantee of 
the consoling thought, that the difference or antagonism 
of these two main branches of the Christian world, how- 
ever deep and far-reaching, is, after all, not absolute and 
irreconcilable, and that we may hopefully and prayer- 
fully look, after a long and violent conflict, to a new 
age, where all injustice and bitterness of strife shall be 
forgiven and forgotten, and all discords of the past be 
dissolved in the sweet harmonies of infinite love and 
peace. 

depth of his spirit, and his nobleness of character, was worthy to 
stand at his side. He is the highest point of the development of the 
Western Church before the Middle Ages, From him the Mysti- 
cism no less than the Scholasticism of the Middle Ages has drawn 
its life; he forms the mightest pillar of Roman Catholicism; and 
the leaders of the Reformation derived from his writings, next to 
the study of the Holy Scriptures, especially the Paulinian Epistles, 
those principles which gave birth to a new era." 

8 



98 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. * 

What Augustine says so beautifully of the individual 
man, may with equal propriety be applied to the course 
and destiny of Church-history as a whole : " Tlwu, O 
Lord, hast created us for Thee, and our heart is restless, 
until it rests in Thee ! " 



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